


A Peculiar Shangri-la in England

by Space_Kitten_from_Planet_Pheromone



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Saiyuki
Genre: Black Butler - Freeform, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Demons getting protective over their humans, Kuroshitsuji - Freeform, Multi, Saiyuki - Freeform, Saiyuki x Black Butler crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7621888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Kitten_from_Planet_Pheromone/pseuds/Space_Kitten_from_Planet_Pheromone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through an accidental incantation of both Sharak and Sanzo’s respective sutras, the Sanzo party gets transported into a world far different from their own. Enter a pompous, little boy with an eyepatch on his right eye, who seemed to take an interest with Sanzo’s ability to expel demons to ashes, much to the chagrin of the boy’s suspecting butler—who happened to be a demon himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In celebration of the upcoming 20th anniversary of Saiyuki, and the animation project for Saiyuki Reload Blast in 2017, along with the upcoming Black Butler: Book of the Atlantic OVA in the same year, I bring you—this fic.
> 
> The Saiyuki boys meet the Phantomhive household. Far East meets Far West. Demons meet a fellow demon of a different kind. A haughty earl meets an equally haughty priest. A Saiyuki/Black Butler crossover. Two of the fandoms that greatly molded me into the way that I am today. Hoorah!
> 
> To anyone reading this who’s not familiar with Saiyuki but is familiar with Black Butler (you mean there are people out there who don’t know the glorious and testosterone-inducing series that is Saiyuki? Yes. Yes, there are—I know a few people), kindly refer to Black Butler season 2, episode 5, to the part where the Phantomhive servants went to the Trancy ball dressed in the costumes of the Monkey King (Finnian), Pigsy (Mey-rin), and Sandy (Bard), all three who urged Ciel to be the monk. That would give you a hint.
> 
> To the Saiyuki fans who have only seen the anime and have not read the manga, this fic will contain major spoiler bombs for Reload Blast. Please do read Saiyuki Reload Blast before reading this—consider that as a reminder.

Hakkai adjusted his monocle, and tilted the map in his hands this way and that, blinking in puzzlement. His lips mirrored the rest of his companions’ frowns, save for Goku, who remained looking at his surroundings with his mouth agape.

Hakuryuu cheeped for the umpteenth time, worried about his owner’s current dilemma. In a way to alleviate Hakkai’s worry, the white dragon nudged his head to Hakkai’s cheek, purring upon seeing the green-eyed man smile, and Hakkai tucked away the map inside his pocket.

“Sanzo,” he started, leveling his voice to that of forced cheer as he looked at the smoking priest, “what was the last time you remembered us doing?”

Hakkai ignored the impulsive twitching of Sanzo’s eyebrow upon being asked, and the blond let out a long drag of smoke. “We were talking with Sharak and his militia in the middle of making our way to the West after the Three Aspects told us to go back, when an insane amount of demons attacked us, and I used the sutra while Sharak fended them off with a machine gun.”

“Right. And then what happened?”

“Some weird ray of light erupted from the sutra and encircled all of us,” deadpanned Gojyo, his red eyes darting all around in silent agitation, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing as each second passed.

“Correct,” Hakkai nodded and smiled, “and?”

“We ended up in this village!” Goku cheered with his hand raised, his shock forgotten, and now recovered with utmost gusto. “Hey, Hakkai. Do you think they have food here? This place looks big. But it’s weird. But big!”

The whack of the fan hit Goku’s face, and Sanzo scowled at Goku’s minute pout, “Speak human, dammit. How many times do I have to say that? Hakkai, where exactly are we?”

Hakkai forced a tightlipped smile, and Gojyo noticed the man’s tense shoulders and the slightly quivering jaw. “I’m afraid... we’re not in India anymore, everyone.”

The other three glared at the awkwardly laughing man, exclaiming in unison, “ _What?_ ”

“Hey, hey, hey. Back the fuck up, ’Kai. Don’t spew shit on us now because that’s not a funny joke,” tutted Gojyo with a worried air. Hakkai said nothing, and merely kept forcing his tightlipped smile. Gojyo’s eyes widened, shaking his head in denial, “No. No. Fuck no. Don’t say that—what, are we somewhere near the Indian border again? Is it a barrier this time? Tell me it’s a barrier so we can destroy it.”

Hakkai’s smile faltered, and wordlessly stared at Gojyo’s disbelieving expression with gnawing unease. “I don’t think...—it’s not a barrier, anymore, Gojyo. We’re not in India.”

“Hey, Hakkai. The only one allowed to not speak in a human language is the monkey. What nonsense are you spouting now?” Sanzo hissed, feeling his temper rising. “Is the Minus Wave affecting you again?”

Hakkai shook his head, gone of all smiles, “I am quite fine, if that’s what you mean. Your sutra, Sanzo.”

The blond’s eyebrow rose and glanced at the scripture draped on his shoulders, “What about it?”

Hakkai took in a deep breath, and spoke slowly, “Remember what you said about avoiding Sanzos who activate sutras at the same time?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, think about it. While we were too busy with our own thing, you used your sutra to expel the demons in our immediate area, but on Sharak’s side...”

Goku slapped his fist on his palm, realization dawning, “Ah! Maybe we were too busy to notice that Sharak had also used her sutra!”

Hakkai nodded, his eyes intently focused on Sanzo’s narrowed ones, “Exactly. There was wave upon wave of demons around us to actually notice our other companions. As we all know, simultaneously activating sutras of the Sanzo priests would lead to world-changing results—that we have yet to see... until now.”

“True. But still, this sucks, man,” Gojyo lamented as he lifted a section of his frayed hair. “No worries, though. I’m still fine even if you accidentally singed my hair with your ki blasts,” he finished with a laugh. “I’m—still processing my head about the ‘world-changing results’ part.”

Hakkai’s shoulders sagged and beamed at the redhead who seemed to recover from the initial shock, “Sorry, Gojyo. There were too many of them, you see.” Gojyo shrugged, smirking.

“Hey, Sanzo. If—if we’re not in India, where are we now? These people look weird,” Goku breathed, immediately standing next Sanzo on instinct, eyes searching for an enemy on reflex.

Sanzo clenched his fist to where his gun was hidden inside his robes, shoulders tensing at the unfamiliar environment they were in. “Ah, they are. If Hakkai doesn’t know where this is, then I don’t know where this place is.”

Hakkai looked around and tried to assess his surroundings, “From the looks of it, it’s like we’re in one of those places I read in my books when I was a teacher—with kings and queens and with odd, tight-fitting clothing.”

The group of four went silent as they looked around. They were in the middle of a busy street surrounded by buildings—confectioneries, shoppes, toy stores and whatnot—and several horse carriages galloped by, but the strangest of them all were the passing people who glanced at them with raised brows and hushed whispers among themselves, hurrying along and avoiding the four men as the people passed by.

Most of the men wore polished boots and pressed trousers that matched with their tall and stiff-looking, odd hats, and crisp, close-fitting, knee-length coats with stiff cuffs—some with single or double-breasted, and some with odd, swallowtailed ends. Some wore seamless, short coats. Around their necks were odd ribbons and what Goku whispered as tiny, black sashes, and some of them wore layers of frilly pieces of cloth that looked quite scratchy to Goku’s eyes.

The women, Gojyo observed, were even odder than the men. Wearing layers of too many clothing for his tastes, he noticed their lack of freedom in movement. Some of the women wore dainty, often ribbon-decked hats that were either worn on top or at an angle. The motif of their garments puzzled the group of four. The women’s dresses ranged from the very bright to earthy to dark colors, with lots of white frills on the flaring sleeves and on the hems of their bell-shaped skirts. Tight bodices and high collars seemed to be the norm, and Hakkai surmised the effects of the tight, laced-up girdle were what restricted the women’s movement the most, noticing the way they all have their backs straightened too much to emphasize the bosom and the dèrriere. Most of the women not wearing bodices, however, seemed to move the way the bodiced women did, and Hakkai deduced that these women wore the bodices underneath their multi-layered clothing.

“The men’s clothes kind of resemble like that of Hazel’s, don’t you think?” Hakkai asked, blinking at some of the men.

“You mean all these people are priests?” Goku inquired, and looked at Sanzo, to which the blond scoffed.

“Doesn’t look like they’re all priests. Look around, some of them have wives and children,” Sanzo pointed to one couple giggling on the sidewalk, cooing at their little toddling daughter who wore looser clothing than that of the adult women.

Gojyo hissed in annoyance and scratched his head as he looked around, “Man, this sucks like fuck. Hey, Hakkai, we can ask around for directions to get to the border.”

Hakkai agreed, and called the attention of one man passing by, “Um, excuse me, could you please tell us where we are? We seem to be lost—”

The man furrowed his brows and looked around and behind him, and pointed at himself, and Hakkai nodded, and heard the man speak in a language that he barely understood. He pointed at a silent, yet blinking Hakuryuu perched on Hakkai’s shoulders, and the man’s eyes widened.

Hakkai tried to make out the vague gestures of the man that shook his head fervently, and waved his hand in dismissal, hastily turning away while muttering something that the four didn’t understand.

“Well, that was fucking helpful,” Gojyo hissed, scowling at the man’s retreating back.

“Now, now, Gojyo, don’t be like that,” Hakkai reassured with a more open smile, “we are in an unfamiliar place, it seems. And he seems to be shocked by Hakuryuu’s appearance. Then again, not many people can keep tiny, white dragons as pets, right, Hakuryuu?” The dragon cheeped and nipped Hakkai’s proffered finger. Hakkai looked at his companions, “Have you noticed the way the man spoke, by the way? It was just like Hazel’s way of speaking to Gat at some point.”

Goku grumbled and scrunched his face, trying to recall the way the priest-turned-demon had spoken to the tall and muscular man. Growling in frustration, he scratched at his head, whining and stomping. “Gaah, I can’t remember! All I know is that Hazel spoke weirdly! And the only times I can recall him speaking in another language was when he took souls from demons and put them in that necklace of his! Kind of like how Sanzo says the sutra’s incantation, but different!”

Sanzo tutted and grumbled in silence, looking around for anyone that might help him where they were, when the sound of a neighing horse caught his attention and looked to where an unaware Goku glared at the stone-cobbled road.

“Hey, Goku! Look out!”

“Huh—?”

Sanzo reached out his hand to grab at the scruff of Goku’s cape and pulled him back just in time when the horse almost ran the brunet over. “Hey, fuckface, watch where you’re going!” the priest yelled, unconsciously wrapping an arm around Goku as he glared at the carriage’s driver.

Hakkai, ever the observant one, noticed a man decked in a green and gold-rimmed changshan inside the carriage. Gasping, he darted over to the carriage, repeatedly tapped the glass panes, and pointed over to the man inside.

“Please wait—excuse me. Excuse me!” pleaded Hakkai, his fist now rapping on the carriage’s window. The carriage slowed to a stop, and Gojyo, Sanzo, and Goku ran up to him.

“Hey, Hakkai, what gives?” Gojyo queried, glaring at the carriage all the while.

“Someone who looks like us is inside,” came Hakkai’s stern voice, and the three looked at each other, blinking when the carriage’s window retracted, and the face of a young, blue-eyed boy dressed in a dark blue coat appeared, frowning at Hakkai.

The boy spoke to Sanzo’s party in what they assumed as a tone of irritation, and Hakkai, not quite understanding what the boy meant, bowed and muttered in apology and directed his attention at the man wearing the changshan. Hakkai leaned over to the carriage, placing his hands on the window sill.

“Um, excuse me. Yes, pardon for the intrusion. But could you please tell us where we are? We are lost and don’t know our way back to India. The map that we have seems to be outdated,” Hakkai implored, gulping at the notion that the man in changshan might be using another dialect and—

“Hm? Ah, fellow Chinese men! Good day! India, you say? But you’re in London! To get to India by a passenger ship will take you 46 to 48 days at most!” quipped the smiling man with a shrug. “Isn’t that right, Lan Mao?” The man turned to a woman who sat on top of the man, someone that Hakkai hadn’t noticed until now.

“F-forty-eight days? Wait—but that’s a month and a half! Hakkai, we need to return there now! Sharak needs us!” whined Goku, his eyes wide and filled with worry. Gojyo managed not to comment on the long journey back, and opted to openly stare at the woman, Lan Mao, from what he heard, who was provocatively draped on the man’s lap.

Gojyo whistled at the woman dressed in a short, blue cheongsam and black tights that reached her thighs, and he raised a thumbs up to the man, “Way to go, buddy,” to which the man replied with a lopsided smile and a bashful laugh laced in false modesty.

“Oh, no, stop it, you. Lan Mao here is my sister, haha!”

The group of four went silent, and Sanzo, Goku, and Gojyo all stepped back and looked at Hakkai with accusing stares.

Hakkai, sensing the incriminating glares from his companions, turned around and blinked. “Oh, my. How rude of you. I stopped the carriage because he looked like someone from China, not because of—oh, forget it.” Hakkai looked at the smiling man and bowed, with Hakuryuu doing the same gesture, “Thank you for the information. I’m sorry for delaying your trip. Please be safe.”

The man nodded and smiled, “No worries, fellow Chinese men. Have a safe trip, too!” He waved, only to be stopped by the boy raising his gloved palm to the man. “What is it, Earl? Ah.” They heard the man speak, and the man switched his language to that of what the boy used. The boy with the long, stiff hat and eyepatch on his right eye kept pointing at them as he conversed with the man, speaking in a way that the four men couldn’t comprehend. They noticed how the man in the changshan nodded with the same, knowing smile that reminded them of Hakkai’s. They also noticed how the boy looked and pointed at Hakkai, specifically, to Hakuryuu, who blinked his red eyes and preened his wings with his snout, cheeping softly.

The man nodded once more, and turned to Hakkai, “Hey, gentlemen. The earl wants to know how the toy sitting on the monocle man’s shoulder operates.”

The four of them looked at each other, then at the confused dragon. Hakkai, with his mouth slacking the slightest, opted not to say that he was offended with the man’s words, and he spoke carefully. “You mean Hakuryuu? He—he’s not a toy. He’s a dragon. Our _pet_ dragon.”

The man, seemingly satisfied as he nodded, turned to the boy and translated what Hakkai said. All the while, Gojyo and Goku talked amongst themselves.

“Hey, Gojyo, where is this ‘London’?”

“Dunno. But if it’s a place where I can bed someone like _that_ ,” the redhead grinned and wagged his eyebrows towards Lan Mao’s direction and shoved his hands inside his pockets, “then I wouldn’t mind if we’re on another planet entirely.”

Goku’s face twisted in disgust, “Bah. Always thinking about women wherever we go. Stupid pervert.”

Gojyo’s nostrils flared and opened his mouth for a loud insult to throw at the golden-eyed demon, when Sanzo planted his hand on Goku’s mouth.

“Hey, you two. Stop arguing in the middle of these streets,” Sanzo hissed, and let go of Goku, and crossed his arms as he glared at Gojyo. “We don’t know where we are and we must be alert at all times. From the looks of it, we’re in a foreign land. We don’t know _shit_ about their customs, so it’s better to—”

“Hey, gentlemen. The earl asks what abilities that dragon possess if it is an actual dragon,” interrupts the man in changshan. He shrugged and shook his head with a lazy smile, “These Westerners don’t seem to believe in the existence of the dragons of the East, you know?”

Hakkai, agreeing with the man’s words, beamed at him, and he let the previous offense slide, “Well, Westerners do have unique traditions. Ah, you want to know what abilities Hakuryuu have? Well...” Hakkai looked at Sanzo, who seemed to shrug and grunt in nonchalance.

“Let him breathe fire for now.”

Hakkai nodded and looked around to check if there were people looking their way. Seeing none, he took a crumpled piece of paper from the inside of his pants pocket, flattened it, folded it in half, and held it out to the dragon. “Well, Hakuryuu? Go on, set it on fire.”

The dragon cheeped and nodded, and set its mouth in a circle and blew a small fountain of fire on the paper.

The startled gasp and the wide-eyed look from the boy satisfied Hakkai, and he smiled as he looked at the surprised boy. “Does this appease the child, then?” He shook the paper in his hand until the small flame died out, and stomped it on the stoned ground. He turned to Hakuryuu with an approving laugh, “You did well, Hakuryuu.” And the dragon smiled and cheeped as Hakkai patted his head.

The boy looked at another passenger beside the man in changshan, and seemed to speak in a rush of hurried excitement. The passenger, a black-haired man decked in a high-and-stiff collared, black, double-breasted coat, leaned over from where he sat and peered at Hakkai, then at the dragon, and at the three of Hakkai’s companions. He stopped short at Sanzo, and pointed at him, and he muttered something to the boy.

Goku, aware that the man started conversing to the boy about Sanzo, went over to the man in changshan and jerked his chin to the black-haired man, “Hey, mister. What’s he saying about us?”

The man in changshan regarded Goku with the same, lazy smile, and glanced at the blue-eyed boy and the man, “Ah, Mr. Butler here is asking for your occupations. He is curious about that blond fellow with you.” And he pointed at Sanzo.

Sanzo’s eyes narrowed, and glared straight at the black-haired man that spoke to the boy with the eyepatch. “Why is he asking this?” he said in a low growl, one hand already feeling up on the inside of his robes for his banishing gun.

Sensing Sanzo’s hostility, the man in changshan casually waved his hand about, “Perish the thought, my fellow Chinese man—Mr. Butler here simply asks why you are dressed as such, like a priest, of sorts.”

Gojyo raised his eyebrow, his lips curling downwards, and he tutted, letting out a long-drawn hiss as he scratched his nape, “Well, that’s because...”

Goku and Hakkai chimed in with Gojyo, all three of them pointing at the scowling blond, “...he is actually a priest.”

The man in changshan hummed, and seemed to look at Sanzo with appraise through his odd, closed eyes, and he looked over at the now silent boy and spoke to him in that foreign tongue.

Sanzo glanced at the black-haired passenger, who seemed to look back at him with suspicion painted on his narrowed, claret eyes and downturned, pale lips. Sanzo snorted.

The blue-eyed boy hummed, and stared intently at Sanzo’s attire. A loose and off-white robe tied with a black sash, which covered black, fingerless gloves and a black, mock turtleneck; on his torso was a chest plate made of bamboo—and the most notable thing that caught the boy’s attention was the strange, sheet of paper lined with green backing that sat firmly on Sanzo’s shoulders despite the cool wind, its stark whiteness marred with strange, inked characters that seemed to resemble—

“Sanskrit?” the boy thought out loud, a word which Hakkai, for once, recognized. Hakkai pointed at Sanzo’s scripture with a beam, all the while looking at the inquisitive boy. The boy nodded with a poker face, and Hakkai nodded back with eyes fluttering closed and a kind smile.

“Sanskrit,” Hakkai repeated with a nod. And Goku, confused of it all, asked Hakkai what the boy said, to which the green-eyed man sighed in relief. “This child seems to know, or at least recognize, the letters on Sanzo’s sutra. In our native tongue, you see, we call those letters _fàn yǔ_ , but in the West, they call it, ‘Sanskrit’. I learned about it during the time when I was a teacher. This boy seems smart, by the looks of it,” Hakkai explained with a small laugh, his demeanor now relaxed, and Goku looked at the boy with a grin. If Hakkai decided that trusting this boy was okay, then it was okay for him, too.

The boy turned to talk to the man in changshan, and the man relayed the boy’s message. “The earl asks why you want to go to India.”

And Hakkai explained it to the man, of how they came from China and were tasked to go to Houtou Castle in India and investigate the origins of the demons going berserk throughout the East, and to stop the resurrection of the great demon king Gyumaou, and bring back peace between humans and demons. He told him about their arrival in India, and how a large group of demons attacked them from nowhere, and how they killed these demons. And he told him of how a strange light appeared around Sanzo’s sutra, and they ended up to where they were now.

The man, silent throughout Hakkai’s story, relayed all of his words to the boy, and when the man had finished translating everything, the boy whipped his attention to the four of them with an open mouth, his visible, blue eye widening with a glint of surprise and mounting interest—and the boy’s lips slowly curled into a mischievous grin.

The boy then spoke to the man in hushed tones, and the four men observed how the longer the boy spoke, the larger and the toothier his grin became. Yet, the man in the black coat did the opposite—lips drooping into a very displeased frown at each passing second that the boy spoke.

Sanzo glanced warily at the three conversing men, and turned to Hakkai, “Hey, was that amount of detail even necessary? We might look like lunatics here.”

“Yeah,” Gojyo agreed, scratching his hair as his eyes roved about, looking at all the females in their huge, bell-shaped skirts, “we kinda look like we’re sore thumbs sticking out in this place. And it doesn’t look like it’s affected with the Minus Wave at all.”

Hakkai raised his shoulders, palms held out, “Well, I see no sense in telling them a story that isn’t true. Telling them a lie might backfire at us later on. Besides—”

Goku’s gaze fell to the pale passenger in the black coat, “That one emits an aura that he’s—”

“Gentlemen,” the smiling man in the changshan interrupted with a blinding grin, “the earl here suggests if you want to go with us. He says he will introduce you to the men he knew are from India.”

At this, Goku’s glare disappeared, and he beamed and jumped in joy, “Yes! We’re finally getting somewhere—” He stopped in mid-cheer, and his face twisted in near tears, and Sanzo asked him what was wrong. “Sanzo, I’m—suddenly—so... _hungryyy...!_ ”

Gojyo balked, and laughed, joking about Goku’s constant hunger, and Goku retaliated by throwing insults at Gojyo’s unending lechery, until the two of them grabbed at each other’s throats, much to Sanzo’s growing irritation.

“I thought I told you—” the blond reached inside his sleeve, “to fucking shut it—” He pulled out a small gun and aimed it at Gojyo and Goku, much to the surprise of the passengers inside the carriage. “—when we’re in an unfamiliar place.” The sound of a bullet wheezing past Gojyo’s hair echoed in the bustling street as Sanzo shrieked, “You fucking morons!”

Hakkai, looking quite scandalized at Sanzo’s outburst, tried to placate all three of them. “Sanzo, Sanzo—I think you’re the one who should behave the most right now. Please stop firing the gun when there are people around. Someone might get hurt. Goku, Gojyo, stop fighting in the middle of a busy street. And stop giving Sanzo reasons to shoot you with the gun or hit you with the fan.”

Gojyo and Goku immediately pulled away from each other, but not before elbowing each other’s ribs one last time, and they grudgingly apologized to the priest and the healer. Sanzo merely huffed, and tucked his gun back in his robes.

The sound of bubbling laughter then met their ears, and they turned around and saw the blue-eyed boy grinning, his shoulders shaking, and his gloved hand covering his mouth from restrained chuckles.

He said something in between the small rounds of hilarity, and smirked at the man in the black coat, and laughed at the sight of the pale man’s furrowed brows.

The boy nodded and said something to the man in changshan.

“‘We’ll help you return to India, in exchange—you tell us about how to kill demons, and how that man who claims to be a priest wields a gun and shoots it at his companions with no restraint,’ the earl says.” The eyes of the man in changshan opened just the slightest, and he graced them with a smile that reeked of morbid amusement.

* * *

Sharak grunted in frustration as she stomped her way back to her village, with Hassan and the other monks trailing behind.

“I should have seen it! I _should_ have seen it! Hassan, why didn’t you tell me Genjo was already summoning the sutra’s power when I used my spell? Gah, you should have _told_ me!”

Hassan’s face twisted in agony, his head bowed as he profusely begged for forgiveness—“I didn’t know, Sharak, I didn’t know! I was too busy trying to cover your back with all those demons!”

Sharak pressed her lips in a thin line, shaking her head in resignation, “What will I do now? Those guys were hellbent in disobeying the Aspects after finding out they were dismissed for what had been their sole task for two years. Hell, even I would be mad if the gods who’d give me the mission to travel—and nearly die across countries in the process—would dismiss me by the very gods who gave me the same mission. I can feel Genjo’s pain.”

Hassan sighed, and trailed his eyes over Sharak’s visible scars and on the fluffy tail on her robe. “Well, what do you suppose we do now? We need to get them back. Who knows what will happen to them?”

Sharak paused in her tracks, and craned her neck to Hassan with an ear-splitting grin, stretching the scars on her cheeks—

“Hassan, we’re going back to Taruchie’s, and ask for a way to bring Genjo’s party back.”

—and he stopped, and thought of her as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian notices the similarities between the priest and his little earl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll keep each chapter in alternating points of views from each fandom. First chapter was written through the Saiyuki cast, and this chapter will be through the Black Butler cast, next will return to Saiyuki POV, and so forth.

Ciel kept his thoughts to himself as the four, odd men squeezed inside the four-person landau. Ciel had moved to sit between Lau and Sebastian, and observed the foreigners’ behaviors. The priest, according to Lau, had earlier demanded for the golden-eyed boy to sit inside the landau instead of sitting next to the driver outside. The priest’s reason was that the four of them should stick together in case danger might arise from the outside.

Ciel’s lips curled to an amused simper, and looked at them with escalating interest.

The man with the monocle on his right eye, Ciel mused, seemed to be the one who took care of his companions, calming them down every now and then. The white dragon perched on the man’s shoulder intrigued him, with its fire-breathing ability and all. Ciel wondered if it had other abilities. The man next to him, the tanned redhead with the red eyes, seemed to be more of a flirt, judging by the way he kept grinning and winking at Lan Mao. Although by the looks of it, he seemed to be close with the monocled man, often brushing shoulders with him and joking with him, Ciel mused. And then—

His visible, blue eye regarded the men sitting next to the redhead. First was the tanned, noisy brunet, flushing and hiding his face in his hands in sheer embarrassment at his current predicament about the seating arrangement. Ciel supposed it was embarrassing, to a point.

“Lau, ask them if our guests feel comfortable, especially the reverend and that young man. And tell them I apologize for the cramped space,” drawled Ciel, eyeing the priest that held the young man on his lap.

Lau nodded and spoke to them, all the while, Sebastian side-glanced at Ciel with barely concealed disappointment.

“Young Master, surely you’re not thinking of letting them stay in the manor?” asked Sebastian with a frown. The young earl had never looked quite excited since he met these four men. “They might be assassins by the looks of it. They already look suspicious enough as it is.”

“Sebastian, please. These people are foreigners and have gotten lost from their destination. Surely, a Phantomhive servant such as yourself would not taint my name with inhospitality? Besides, I am very quite interested with them. They’ve killed demons, Sebastian. Shouldn’t you feel at least a bit secured knowing that these people will keep evil at bay?”

Sebastian sighed, and fought to keep his voice at a normal level. He scanned the appearances of the four men in front of them. Definitely foreigners from the looks of it—wearing strange clothing and speaking in a language that only Lau and Lan Mao could understand. “I suppose so. But still—Young Master, if they would try harm even a single hair on your head, I will—”

“Earl,” interrupted Lau with a smile, “the man with the monocle, Mr. Cho, says it is all right. The boy with the brown hair, according to him, says he has had much worse seating arrangements. And the reverend seemed not to mind it at all.” He shrugged, “Travelers really are adaptable, don’t you think?”

Ciel nodded, and looked at this Mr. Cho, and gave him a slight bow—a gesture he had read from one of the books from the East, about giving respect when it was due. Mr. Cho smiled and bowed back, and returned his attention to the redhead chatting a mile away. “They seem like a lively bunch,” he idly commented, noting the way Mr. Cho and the redhead talked to each other, while the reverend and the boy spoke in hushed whispers of their own. “Sebastian, I find it really distressing not to be able to talk to them freely. Go learn their language as soon as we get to the manor. Besides, I know you are also curious about what they’re talking about,” Ciel huffed with a little smirk at the red-eyed demon. And when the butler nodded and forced a smile of agreement, Ciel’s brow rose, and idly looked at the streets. “What a boring reaction.”

Sebastian watched the reverend the most, and noted how his hand was cradled firmly around the flustered young man’s waist. At one point, the carriage went over a bump on the road, and the young man winced upon having his head bumped on the folding top, and huddled close under the reverend’s chin, a gesture that the latter seemed to be tolerating well, judging from the calm way he patted the young man’s waist while observing the streets through the windows.

Sensing being stared at, the reverend looked at Sebastian with a passive face, and he noted the calmness written all over the reverend’s mauve eyes as the young man in his hold tried to keep still.

The butler’s eyes didn’t fail to notice the reverend’s thumb discreetly smoothing over the young man’s lower back.

Sebastian turned to Ciel and whispered, about the reverend being a perfectly normal human but—

The carriage halted, and the doors opened. Lau spoke to Mr. Cho, and Mr. Cho descended the carriage, with the redhead, the brunet, and the blond following behind.

Ciel shrugged at Sebastian, mumbling, “You can tell me the rest later, Sebastian.” The earl exited the carriage and stood behind the four men with a simper upon seeing their surprised reaction at the Phantomhive house. “Welcome to my household, travelers. Well, Lau, translate that to them for me, if you will?”

Lau laughed and did as he was told, and the redhead and the brunet said something to Lau. “Earl, they’re saying their thanks. Also, they need food.”

Ciel blinked at the straightforward request, and chortled as he looked at the now silently smiling Sebastian. “Well, Sebastian? Go and show them what the Phantomhive hospitality is made of. I will show the guests around once they’ve made themselves comfortable.”

Sebastian bowed, and muttered a soft, “Yes, my lord,” before leading them into the manor. Once inside, the butler smiled in satisfaction at the awe shown on the men’s faces. Even the reverend who seemed to be the most stoic out of them, seemed mildly impressed.

The trio of servants, plus Tanaka, lined up by the stairs upon hearing Ciel’s arrival and greeted them with a hearty salute and a loud, “Welcome back!”

“Y-Y-Young Master, who are these gorgeous people?” Maylene asked as they all came up to the new guests, blushing profusely upon being stared and winked at by the redhead. “Such lovely red hair he has!”

Ciel sighed and held out a hand to the four men, “These people will be staying in the manor for the meantime. They’re travelers who have come all the way from China and have lost their way to India and ended up in England. Bard, I know your question, even I don’t know how they ended up here. Sebastian, do your work. Lau, come with me and be the translator, as the language barrier prevents me from talking with them. By the way, where are Soma and Agni?”

Finnian, who had been admiring the golden-eyed boy’s cape with awed looks, waved at him and smiled, to which the gesture was returned with much enthusiasm. He then turned to Ciel with a grin, “Master Soma and Mr. Agni won’t be back until tomorrow. They said they’ll be serving food to the children, Young Master. By the way, they are Chinese right, Young Master? Well, how can we understand them?”

Bard scratched his head and regarded the four men who were now talking amongst themselves, “Yeah, I mean. Sure, Mr. Lau is here, but that couldn’t always be the case.”

Sebastian cleared his throat and clapped once, “With Master Soma out until tomorrow, this will be of an inconvenience.” He glanced at a knotted-browed Ciel, and sighed. “Very well, I will provide for our guests’ needs for the meantime. The young master ordered me to learn their language, as is a part of the Phantomhive hospitality. Besides, it is only natural that a servant of Phantomhive would be able to learn the languages of the guests—especially in the presence of the highest reverend in China.”

The trio of servants looked at their guests, eyes wide, and they stepped back and bowed, exclaiming in unison, “We’re very sorry for our rudeness!”

The four men blinked at the servants, and one of them, the flustered boy from earlier, pointed at the servants and said something to Lau. And Lau shrugged and relayed the servants’ message to them, and Mr. Cho, the boy, and the redhead bowed in return. The reverend, meanwhile, remained stoic, and regarded them with a hum.

“So,” Maylene started with shaky hands as she went over to a smiling Lau, “which one of them is the reverend, sir?”

“Hm? Ah, yes. The reverend is the blond one. An eccentric, if you ask me. But a nice fellow all around,” Lau finished with a laugh and patted Lan Mao’s head. “Right, Lan Mao?” Lan Mao blinked and nodded once.

Finnian and Bard looked at the reverend. “He looks like he has a mix of a European in him, though. He’s from China?” Bard asked Sebastian, who nodded.

“Quite so. According to Master Lau, all of them are from China. Therefore, I’ll make sure that they will remain comfortable in this manor, and what better way to start it off with knowing their native tongue? Young Master, if you could, after I am done with my duties, I will teach you the ways of their language,” Sebastian smiled at the earl, and Ciel harrumphed, his nose stuck in the air as he tapped his walking stick on the floor.

“What use will it be for me?”

“You can start talking to the reverend. Or better yet, I could teach them English. Two of them seem be quite the intellectuals,” the butler observed with an approving glance at Mr. Cho and the reverend. “Also, Young Master, if I could talk to you in a moment, I have an urgent matter to say to you after this. For the meantime—” He turned to the trio of servants and clapped twice, and they immediately lined up in front of him with a salute. “Bard, you take care of today’s food. Be extra careful of the spices that might trigger allergies or such. And don’t burn everything. Finny, you’re in charge of the decorations in the dining room. Make sure you prepare the jasmines and the gardenias and put them in the vases I purchased last week. And make sure you don’t use herbicide as fertilizer—again. Maylene, you’re in charge of giving the guests their rooms and accommodating to their basic toiletries and such. We don’t want them getting lost in this manor, do we? Oh, and Mr. Tanaka, I have a favor to ask of you. If you could, could you ask them to write down their names so we know who is who? I’ll ask Master Lau—Master Lau. Could you please ask them to write down their names? I’ll have Mr. Tanaka jot them down and have the servants memorize them so we’ll know who to address. Eastern order of address is fine—since they are from Asia.”

Lau nodded, “Sure, Mr. Butler.” And he relayed his message to the four men, who shrugged and didn’t seem to mind it at all. Mr. Cho took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, while the reverend took out an ink brush and an ink bottle from the inside of his robes—something that mildly impressed Ciel. And they took turns in writing down their names, and handed it over to Lau.

“Ah, here they are. The 31st of China—Genjo Sanzo—um.” Lau stopped and said something to the four, and they nodded and shrugged all the same. Sebastian glanced at Ciel, who shrugged as well. “I’ll repeat that. The 31st of China—Genjo Sanzo.”

The blond lazily flipped his hand and grunted.

Lau turned to the servants with a smile, “He is the reverend.” The trio of servants nodded with their mouths hanging open, and bowed. In the presence of a holy man, they swore to keep everything up to Sebastian’s standards—very much like how it went with Reverend Jeremy a while back. “But, you see, calling him like that is strange—” Lau spoke to the reverend, and they talked for a few moments, with the smallest of the four men piping up cheerfully every now and then. Satisfied, Lau turned to Ciel, “His companions say that they call him Sanzo. And it is just fine.”

“Reverend Sanzo it is, then,” Ciel nodded to himself.

“Son Goku,” Lau read aloud, and the lively brunet waved his hand about, grinning at them. Lau nodded and looked at the servants grimly, “He is the most trusted companion of the reverend, even if the reverend doesn’t say so. He has been with the reverend for years since he was a child, maybe even for a past life that they most likely shared. With him by the reverend’s side, you can see that this young man will follow the reverend to hell and back and protect him at all costs. He is quite the high-spirited one, with the rare wisdom like that of a sage that equaled the heavens itself. The aloof reverend, because of his painful past, might always refer to him as a foolish boy, but in fact, he is actually quite fond of the child—even going far as to risk his life to save him more than once. I am quite sure that he and the reverend share a very unique and unbreakable bond that’s quite different from the other two.”

The trio of servants looked at Lau with utmost awe, and looked at the bright-eyed brunet with fascination. Sebastian, Ciel, and Lan Mao, however, remained unfazed.

“Lau. You just spewed whatever came to your mind just now, didn’t you?” Ciel huffed with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, and Lau laughed and scratched his head.

“ _Yah_ , how did you know? I’m hurt, Earl! How could you say that to sensitive me?”

The servants gasped with their mouths agape, and huddled and whispered amongst themselves. “M-Master Lau is lying? But it seems like a real and believable story!” Maylene exclaimed as the others agreed with furtive nods, and flinched when they heard Sebastian clear his throat once more.

“Master Lau. The others, if you please.”

“Hm? Ah, yes. Cho Hakkai.”

The man with the monocle on his right eye raised his hand with a kind smile, and Lau smiled. “He’s the one who approached us in the first place asking for help. And then—Sha Gojyo.”

The redhead raised his hand with a wink at Lan Mao and Maylene. Lau turned to Ciel with an amused smile, “Shall I tell you his backstory?”

Sebastian held in a snort as Ciel tapped his gloved finger on his arm in irritation, “No need. And? What’s the dragon’s name?”

“Dragon?” the servants asked.

“Apparently, Mr. Cho has a dragon that can actually breathe fire—I saw it earlier. Lau, what’s the dragon’s name?” Ciel asked, ignoring the amazed gasps of the servants.

“Hakuryuu,” Lau read aloud, and the white dragon sitting on Mr. Cho’s shoulder cheeped, flapped its wings, and bowed in greeting. “That’s all of them, Earl.”

Ciel nodded, and pointed at his servants, “Treat them well, and don’t bring shame to my name. Got it?”

“Yes, sir!” the servants exclaimed with cheer.

Satisfied, he removed his top hat and craned his neck to Sebastian, who already had the names of the guests in hand and gave them to Tanaka, “Well, the most we can do for now is lead them to their individual rooms—”

“Pardon me, Young Master, but I must disagree,” Sebastian interrupted with a contemplative glance at the four conversing men, tapping his gloved index on his chin as he did so. “These people are in a foreign land, and, judging from Reverend Sanzo’s reaction alone earlier about refusing to let Master Son out of his sight, I think it would be best if they are to be put in pairs, at least. It would take them time to adapt, and the least we could do is to not break them up. Master Lau, could you tell them if that’s all right?”

Lau relayed Sebastian’s suggestion to the four men, and they talked amongst themselves, fingers pointing and hushed mutterings and a few squabbles between Mr. Sha and Mr. Son, and when they finished, they talked to Lau and pointed fingers and nodded.

“Earl, they said that it is fine. Mr. Cho will stay with Mr. Sha and the dragon, and the reverend will stay with Mr. Son,” Lau commented.

Ciel agreed, and once arrangements were in order, a flustered Maylene gestured for the four men to go with her, with Lau, and Lan Mao—as the second translator—trailing behind. Sebastian clapped thrice and ordered the servants to do their jobs, and was soon left with Ciel.

“All right, Sebastian. What is it that you wanted to say?” he yawned. “Prepare me my tea and cake later, by the way.”

Sebastian smiled and bowed, “Understood. Very well. About Reverend Sanzo—”

“Ah, he is quite the curious case. I have never seen a cleric using a gun before, have you?”

“I am quite sure I have seen my fair share of strange priests, but not to that extent. He is a first. About the reverend and Master Son—”

“What about them?”

“Well, they seemed quite attached. Reverend Sanzo is a human through and through, but his companions are—well, I should say they are of my kind. Three of them share the same scent with that of a demon,” Sebastian finished with a knowing smirk at the earl’s suddenly surprised face.

“Of your kind? They’re _demons_? Why didn’t you say so earlier?” complained Ciel, and he stepped back and struck his walking stick in ire. “Are you toying with me again?”

Sebastian chuckled, amused at his young lord’s reaction, “I intend to do no such thing. Seeing as you are quite interested with the reverend, I figured I should tell it to you later. And now is that later.”

Ciel gritted his teeth and looked at the butler with knotted brows and an angry, blue eye—and paused with a blink upon pondering Sebastian’s words. “Wait. You’re saying this reverend, who is human and claims to kill demons, is accompanied by the very _demons_ that he kills?”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Sebastian’s brow rose with a lopsided smile, “Nevertheless, there has to be a reason. Master Son, in particular, has the reverend’s scent all over him. On the other hand, Reverend Sanzo’s scent doesn’t exist on the other two, Master Sha and Master Cho.”

Ciel hummed in a thoughtful look, “Oh. That’s interesting. Keep a lookout on all of them, then. Learn their language as soon as possible and relay everything to me. I’ll retire to my office until food is ready.” And he went up the stairs as Sebastian bowed.

* * *

It was nighttime when the bumbling servants of the Phantomhive were nearly done with their chores for the day. They were in the kitchen tidying up their mess, and Maylene, for once, managed not to drop a plate the whole day—an achievement, she said to herself.

“Our guests were pleased by our service, don’t you think?” she inquired Bard, who scrubbed the pans with gusto. Not waiting for a reply, she sighed, almost lost in a dream-like state. “All of them are quite handsome men, yes? Especially the reverend—! The way he spoke was quite alluring to the ears, even if I didn’t know what he was saying!” And Maylene fought the blush spreading to her cheeks with her hands, her nostrils flaring in a daydream, “He is quite young to be a reverend, and reverends are celibates—but aah, he is a cold beauty that rivals Mr. Sebastian’s beauty!”

Bard barked a laugh, “Hah! Better not let Sebastian hear that. I saw him glaring at that guy since lunch. Speaking of which, that kid with the golden eyes and the weird cape has an appetite that exceeds Earl Grey’s.”

“Master Son, you mean?” piped Finnian as he carried the boxes of produce for tomorrow. “I like him—Master Lau said that Master Son said that he liked our food! Master Sha seemed to like it as well, going as far as to fight with Master Son for it. Haha! Also, Master Lau said that Master Cho asked for recipes on what we did. I think they all like it.”

“Hahah! Did you see the look on Sebastian’s face when the lanky one and the kid fought over the cake, though? His face was priceless! I like them a lot. Especially that Sha guy. I’d ask him out for a bar night if I could understand what he’s saying. Seems like he has a bunch of great stories under his belt,” whooped Bard, chortling as he finished his chores.

Maylene agreed, and took care of the soot in the fireplace as she coughed out. “And Master Cho is so kind! I almost spilled the tea earlier, and he didn’t even reprimand me! He actually helped me with pouring the tea even though we couldn’t understand each other’s words! He helped me with actions! Me, a mere maid! Even their pet dragon seemed to be thankful!”

And the servants talked about their guests some more, chatting away ideas on how to properly communicate with them without words.

“How about we draw pictures?” piped Finny.

“Nah, too bothersome. ’Sides, I can’t draw well,” Bard tutted, shaking his head in dismay. “Body language is the way to go, I think.”

“How will we do that, though?” Maylene asked as she sat on the chair, and they all hummed in thought—

“How about you do the thinking tomorrow and take a rest for now? Tomorrow will be a big day—Master Soma and Mr. Agni will arrive—I really hope they won’t bring children like last time,” Sebastian entered the kitchen, sighing as he rotated his shoulder. “Go to rest, everyone. I’ll fix up the rest.”

The three cheered in delight as Tanaka sipped his tea, and they quickly bade Sebastian good night.

“Well, then. Time to do the nightly rounds,” he muttered, and noted that it was nearing midnight. And so Sebastian lit up a candlestick and walked down the moonlit corridors, inspecting every room to see if they were in order. Going up to where the guests were, however—he found their doors to be locked. Sebastian hummed.

“This is quite bothersome,” he muttered in dismay, and looked around the dark hallways. He took out the master key and opened the door leading to Master Cho and Master Sha’s room, and found them sleeping soundly side by side on the king-sized bed, with the white dragon curled up on a plush pillow that Maylene provided on the chair beside the bed.

Nodding in satisfaction, Sebastian closed the door and went to the next room where Reverend Sanzo and Master Son were. He pushed the master key in, and opened the door, and saw them sleeping soundly under the moonlight at first glance, with the reverend and the young man facing each other.

The lazy movements of hands and heads, the muted whispers, the shallowed breathing, and the languid shuffling of limbs beneath the duvet from both parties, however, told Sebastian otherwise.

It wasn’t until Sebastian saw a flash of gold—not from the coronet that the brunet strangely wore, but from his eyes—that he came to the conclusion that they haven’t been fully asleep at all.

In an instant, a cudgel aimed and missed Sebastian’s cheek, surprising the butler as the brunet now stood on the bed with a long baton in hand, his eyes narrowed in a glare. He noted the lack of the young man’s odd and spiked, yellow cape, and noticed that the young man looked much leaner without the baggy clothes.

The boy spoke to the reverend in a muttered undertone, and the reverend, in turn, quickly turned over and reached for his gun on the nightstand and aimed it at Sebastian as he sat up.

Wide-eyed, Sebastian regarded their forms prepared for an attack.

He let out a clandestine chuckle, and hid his upturned lips with his gloved hand.

“Well, isn’t this quite surprising.”

The boy and the reverend looked at each other in equal surprise, and they stared at the smirking butler. “You can speak our language?” they asked in unison.

Sebastian bowed with his smirk still in place, “I have studied the language you are speaking, Master Son—as per my young master’s order. It is to ensure that all of you will somehow be able to communicate freely without the hassle of a language barrier. I am the young master’s loyal servant, after all.” He looked at the young man with a knowing glance, then at the blond. “Also, Reverend Sanzo still has yet to tell us of his story of how and why he wields a weapon of killing. Reverend, you are a human, are you not?”

“Why do you ask if you already know the answer?” the reverend growled as he aimed the gun at Sebastian’s heart. “Have you come here for the sutra?”

Sebastian’s smile faltered, and a quizzical look crossed his face as his brows raised, “Sutra?”

“You came here for the sutra, didn’t you? If not, then you came here to devour Sanzo,” the young man gritted out, and his hold on the cudgel tightened, feet at the ready to jump on the butler.

Sebastian looked at the reverend, then at the growling young man, and back. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Master Son’s head whipped to the reverend sitting on the bed, “Sanzo, he’s a demon, but I don’t smell any limiter on him. He stays sane even without a limiter.”

“Excuse me, but what is this ‘limiter’ you’re talking about, Master Son?” Sebastian was completely confused now—surely this was another word he had yet to study?

The reverend tilted his head and regarded Sebastian with utmost scrutiny, his brows heavily drawn downwards as he snarled.

“A limiter is—” Master Son explained, gathering words as he went, “—a limiter keeps your demon marks and ears and powers at bay so you couldn’t attack people if you go berserk.” This time, it was Master Son’s turn to look confused, and he studied the wide and blinking claret eyes of the butler under the candlelight. He turned to the reverend, looking lost, “Sanzo, I think he doesn’t know what a limiter is.”

“No shit,” snarled the reverend as he lowered his gun, making Sebastian snort in return.

“I assure you, gentlemen, that I have none of this ‘limiter’ you speak of. I function properly and sanely without the need of such a thing. But I must say, you have quite the mouth, there, Reverend. Surely you are afraid of angering the gods with that foul mouth?” chuckled the butler, amusement painted his face as he glanced at the faint traces of scars scattered on the reverend’s exposed arm.

“I am not exactly the traditional priest, so no, I don’t give a shit.”

“Hn, so I see.” Sebastian stepped inside and closed the door behind him, “that is quite unusual, indeed. Now I see why my young master took interest in you.” He placed the candelabra on the dresser near the door and went over to them, noting Master Son’s cudgel that shortened in normal size, yet still aimed it at Sebastian’s head. “Fear not, Master Son, I am only here to check if the guests are all right. It is customary practice around here.”

“We were more than all right before you came in,” came the reverend’s snappy reply, and the gun returned to aiming at Sebastian’s heart, his finger ready to pull the trigger. “Now you can leave.”

Sebastian, amused of it all, showed the human a toothy grin, “And if I won’t?”

“ _I’ll kill you._ ”

Silence fell over the room, and from the outside, a lone raven cawed and flew in the night—and Sebastian chuckled.

“Like begets like, I see. You and he—my young master, I mean—are alike. An interesting human, you are, Reverend Sanzo. But since I am already here and you are very much more than awake, I must ask your companion a very important question—and his answer will determine your life and death.” He side-glanced at the scowling brunet with the cudgel still aimed at his head, and Sebastian’s scarlet eyes glowed and turned into slits.

The room slowly fell into darkness, swallowing the moonlight whole as the butler’s voice resonated from all corners of the room.

“Do you intend to harm, or devour my young master’s soul?”

Master Son’s face scrunched into confusion, mouth hanging agape, and when the question dawned on him, he stomped on the bed with a shriek. “No! Why would I do that! I wouldn’t harm a single person or demon unless they are going to take the sutra or kill my friends! Also, I should ask _you_ the same thing!” The cudgel from behind Sebastian’s head disappeared, and the young man stood in defiance as he pointed a finger at Sebastian.

“D’you want to take the sutra or eat Sanzo? Because I won’t forgive you if you do—no one gets to eat Sanzo. And I mean _no one_.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the demon, and the curl of his smirk widened even more. “I intend to do none of those things—if you are not to bring any harm upon this household, and especially to my young master, then I am quite pleased.”

“And if you won’t snatch the sutra or kill my friends or eat Sanzo, then I am happy with that, too,” Master Son curtly nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. And when the room finally returned to its moonlight-bathed glow, the feisty brunet grinned and held out his open hand. “So we’re good, then? Friends?”

Surprised at the young man’s sudden turn of mood, the glow from Sebastian’s eyes disappeared, and returned to their normal, claret hue. He looked long and hard at the proffered hand and the open grin that the other demon had. He glanced at the reverend, who shrugged.

“That’s just how he is,” the blond stated simply as he placed his gun back on the dresser.

Sebastian blinked, confused for a moment, and regarded the smiling brunet with a question. “If you are not here for my young master’s soul, then what are you here for?”

“To make sure some demon king in India stays dead so we won’t go berserk and kill people.”

The tone in the brunet’s voice was somber and calm, and Sebastian, in turn, nodded with the same coolness.

“If that is what you intend to do,” Sebastian started with a calm smile, and he shook the demon’s hand with much warmth, “then I’ll support you with all that I can to get you gentlemen back to India, and hope for your successful return.”

The reverend huffed, a curled sneer painting his lips as he looked at the thoroughly entertained butler. “What’s with the sudden change of mind?”

The pale demon gave him a sidelong glance, draped his hand over his heart, bowing, “As long as you won’t harm my young master and the residents of this house, then I, in my earnest, will do the same, and will not bring harm upon the reverend and his companions. And also—”

Sebastian inched closer to the brunet’s ear, cupping a palm over his mouth as he whispered to him.

“—I will not breathe a soul about Master Son’s want to be the one to devour Reverend Sanzo in a different way instead.”

The golden-eyed demon stepped back and almost fell off the bed upon hearing the butler’s heavy implication, face flushing a bright red dampened under the moonlight, and he tried to stutter a coherent reply, but to no avail.

Sebastian laughed, and held a finger up to his lips and winked at the still blithering young man, “It will be a secret that I will never divulge. I wouldn’t dream of tarnishing Reverend Sanzo’s reputation, after all.”

“Hey, what did you say to him,” the reverend gritted out, violet eyes glancing at the brunet’s reddened face.

“Hey, Sanzo. Just let it go this time,” Master Son replied with a forced smile to the blond, obviously trying his best not to squeak and spread the blush from his face further. When the reverend tried to retort, he turned his attention to the butler. “Ah, Sebastian, is it? Call me Goku. No one calls me Son anyway, it just sounds weird,” he beamed at the butler, and plopped on the bed crosslegged.

“Master Goku, it is,” hinted Sebastian with an amused smile, and chuckled at the confusion and the tiniest bit of pout from the reverend. He clearly wanted to ask about what the butler whispered to the golden-eyed boy. “As is such,” he gazed at the brunet, “I am merely a demon and a butler, a servant of a very, ah, _pampered_ individual—and therefore, I cannot call you by your names alone. It would be very disrespectful for someone such as I.”

“Earl, you mean?” asked Goku.

Sebastian nodded, “Quite perceptive, you are. Yes, the earl of Phantomhive—his name is Ciel Phantomhive, and Earl is his title. He’s the one I answer to, much like how you, Master Goku, seem to answer to Reverend Sanzo.”

The hinted meaning and the playful glint in Sebastian’s eyes didn’t escape Goku’s notice, and the brunet grinned, and scratched his cheek as he looked away, bashful at it all. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The reverend, looking quite puzzled at the sudden embarrassment of the brunet, looked at both of the demons. “Hey, what’s with this anticlimactic ending? And what are you implying?” He glared at Sebastian once more.

The butler bowed with a thoughtful smile gracing his features, his posture now more relaxed than moments prior. “I am merely stating the fact that you are in very good hands with your companions, Reverend. I can tell. And besides—” he turned and went to pick up the candelabra and opened the door, sparing them one last amused look.

“—I am looking forward on seeing more of you, the most intriguing vicar I have ever encountered in my long, demonic life.”

* * *

Ciel slept soundly in his room, and he grumbled himself awake when the candlelight met his vision.

“What did you find out?” the earl mumbled with a stifled yawn, sitting up to make himself more awake. He noticed the smug smirk on his butler’s face, and he frowned. “What?”

Shaking his head, Sebastian smiled, “Nothing, Young Master. I just realized how similar humans really are.” He placed the candelabra on the nightstand and tucked Ciel back into bed, “You have nothing to fear, Young Master. They are, in fact, quite an intriguing group of young men. I am quite relieved that they aren’t here to harm you—or me, for that matter.”

Ciel squinted, his lips falling into a silent question as they parted. Sebastian waited for the earl to articulate his question, and when he did, Ciel pointed a finger at the butler with puzzlement.

“You directly asked them?”

“Just Master Goku. I must say, his reaction to being accused of attempting a murder in this manor was quite new. He is filled with emotion, like a human, but he is not human. He is loyal to the reverend—very fiercely, I must add.” His lips fell in a thoughtful look, parting them as he pondered over his next words, “It is quite rare for demons to be unconditionally loyal to humans, and Master Goku is such a demon.”

Ciel huffed a laugh, amusement seeping from his core at seeing the butler brood and puzzle over the same species he belonged to. “And the reverend?”

At this, a slow smile crept to Sebastian’s lips, and he patted and smoothed down the duvet on Ciel, “The reverend resembles you, in a way. Very much so in his actions. I think I can see now why you take interest in him.”

“Tell me you’re not being sarcastic right now, because that smarmy smile isn’t fooling me.”

Sebastian looked at the young boy on the bed, and he straightened himself, his fist clutched onto his heart as he twisted his face in mock hurt.

“You _wound_ me, Young Master. I am not trying to be sarcastic. I truly see you and the reverend are alike in some ways—except for the vulgar language he uses. He is quite the walking contradiction, if I say so myself. I could smell tobacco on him when I checked earlier, and he claims not to listen to gods.” And Sebastian paused, and recalled the scenario he saw before he entered the room where the vicar and the demon slept.

The languid movements under the blankets and the suggestive sound of what could only sound as kissing stood out in the butler’s mind.

Sebastian smiled, and his eyelids drooped and his eyes turned to slits and glowed a bright red as he looked at the stern-faced earl glaring at him from under the sheets.

“Yes. Quite a mysterious and _interesting_ man, indeed.” Sebastian’s fangs bared just the slightest at Ciel’s provoking glower, and he fought back a throaty chuckle. “Also, the reverend and his companion declare that they only kill demons who attack them. And seeing as I see no value in attacking them, they will not harm me.”

Sebastian’s knee met the edge of the bed as he bent over and splayed his palms on both sides of Ciel’s pillow, trapping the blue-eyed boy beneath his towering form and his hypnotizing stare.

“Isn’t that a wonderful news, Young Master?”

The gritted teeth and the menacing glare sent his way only made Sebastian smile wider.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poems that Taruchie recited in this chapter are poems from the original Journey to the West—in Chapter 1, and in Chapter 7, respectively. Also, since Saiyuki readers have yet to see what Kumari Taruchie’s history is, much more about what her eye color is—though she did hint that she is a relative of Tenkai Sanzo—I decided to go with violet, as those were the same eyes that Tenkai Sanzo had.
> 
> Another thing, characters with violet eyes in Saiyuki seem to have exceptional divine powers of some sort. Sharak has violet eyes, too, but our beloved Genjo Sanzo is a special case. But of course—we all know that.

Goku woke up to the sound of pelting rain, and turned over to where he found Sanzo with his brows tightly knotted in his sleep.

On instinct, Goku scooted over to the blond, and curled up against him under the covers—all the while, he looked at him inquisitively, and noticed the knots on his brows diminishing bit by bit. Smiling at the sight, he nuzzled his head under Sanzo’s chin and sighed happily, and frowned when he heard a knock on the door, along with the muffled sound of two people talking from the other side.

Not Hakkai or Gojyo, Goku thought—and he gently nudged Sanzo awake, as much as he hated to do it. It was never a good thing for Sanzo to see and hear the rain.

The throaty grumble and the narrowed glower sent his way made Goku grin.

“Mornin’, Sanzo. Well, not really. But still.”

Sanzo sluggishly sat up, and tutted at the sight of torrential rain from the windows. He rubbed the heel of his palm to his closed eye and swore. “Time?” he groaned out, and Goku sat up and looked at the grandfather clock by the door.

“Six, it seems. Are you feeling okay?”

“Hn.”

They got out of bed, and Goku idly looked around the room as he undressed. Pretty room with pretty decorations, he thought. It was the gaudiest place he had ever been to. It was a different level of gaudy than the one in Keiun. He wanted to touch some of the decorations that piqued his interest, but avoided it. What if he broke one and Sebastian got mad?

He paused in his musings as Sanzo quietly struggled with putting on his gloves and singlet. Hakkai might have healed most of Sanzo’s shallowest wounds from Kougaiji’s last attack, but it would take more time for Sanzo to fully recover. Those burns under his right arm were probably waiting for Sanzo to rip out a scream in pain—Sanzo’s just gotten used to swallowing his painful screams.

Also, Sanzo really needed to change those bandages on his arms.

“Here, I’ll help—”

“No need.”

The door opened, and in came the bumbling maid from yesterday. Upon seeing them, however, her face turned red and squeaked something that they couldn’t understand. She covered her foggy eyeglasses while looking at a half-dressed, half-bandaged Sanzo and a half-naked Goku, and slammed the door as quickly as she came.

“What was that about?” Goku asked, blinking at the door. All the while, he had started undoing the bandages on Sanzo’s arm despite Sanzo’s unspoken protests of glares.

“Dunno. Don’t care. I need my smokes.”

The door opened again, and the still flushed maid held up a sign and a pen, written in perfect Chinese, and above it, a string of letters that Goku could barely comprehend.

‘Would you like to go down for breakfast once you are ready? I, Maylene, will lead the way. Please encircle your answer,’ it read. Below it were two options, a yes and a no.

“Goku.”

Goku beamed at Sanzo, and went over to Maylene, and encircled, ‘Yes’ and furiously nodded.

Maylene heaved at the sight of Goku’s tanned and toned body up close, and her nose bled there and then.

* * *

Breakfast with people who you couldn’t comprehend was an uncomfortable experience. You’d need a medium—in this case, there were two of them at most, the third one was mostly silent—and a lot of uncomfortable introductions and vague backstories.

Lau, however, seemed to be quite fine doing all the translating. All the while, spewing lame puns and palindromes as he chattered the table away. Sebastian, out of the corner of Goku’s eye, seemed to be translating what Lau was saying to Ciel.

Hakkai had politely laughed for his three, unresponsive companions, while Hakuryuu munched on a biscuit beside Hakkai’s saucer. At one point, Hakkai had remarked about how Sebastian was able to study 273 dialects of Chinese in one night, to which Sebastian had replied with much satisfaction, stating that—

“It was my young master’s wish, therefore I only did what I could do. Such a small feat is something that a Phantomhive servant should do. Besides, since I have not the slightest idea of your dialect from yesterday, I went ahead and studied them all, and I am quite pleased my endeavors have come into fruition.”

And Hakkai was quite surprised and amazed by this butler, and bowed in return. “I, as a former teacher, had to study a few, but not to the extent you have made. It’s truly remarkable! Really, it had inconvenienced you to study our—language, well, all of our dialects! I deeply apologize.”

“No, please. Studying the guests’ language is something that I, a humble servant, should do. Also, I find it quite—amusing—to finally understand what Master Lau is saying. His puns are finally making sense. Now, if only I could teach them to the young master—”

Ciel called Sebastian, and said something to the butler. Meanwhile, Sanzo took out a cigarette and lighter and lit the stick. Ciel, who had noticed it, discreetly pointed to the device and said something to Sebastian.

“Reverend Sanzo,” Sebastian started, looking at Sanzo with a flicker of amusement, “my young master wishes to know where you got that little compact flame.”

All four of the men looked at each other, then at the lighter. Confused, Goku piped up instead, “It’s a lighter. What of it?”

“A lighter?” Sebastian asked, puzzled, “Is that kind normal in China?”

Gojyo blinked, and opened his mouth, “Hey, hey—seriously, are you for real? Of course, it’s— _ow_! What?” Gojyo yowled, and soothed his kicked shin, mouth turned to a plaintive scoff at a politely smiling Hakkai.

“Yes it is, Mr. Sebastian. It is quite normal in China. But isn’t it normal here?” Hakkai blinked, and looked around, noting the few oil lamps hanging on some parts of the walls. “I see that there are oil lamps, though.”

Sebastian nodded, his smile faltering the slightest. “Oil lamps and matches are normal here, yes. But that thing,” he pointed to Sanzo’s lighter, “is not. It is quite a puzzling device. Perhaps—could I take a closer look at it?”

Shrugging and huffing, Sanzo passed it to Goku, who, in turn, stood up and handed it to Sebastian, and quickly returned to his seat beside the priest.

Hakkai craned his head over to where Sanzo sat while Goku munched on his raspberry pie. “Sanzo, don’t you think that this place is...?”

He puffed his cigarette and looked at the end of of the table where Sebastian and the boy inspected the lighter as though it were the most fascinating thing they have ever seen. He noted Sebastian flicking the sparkwheel, and went a bit wide-eyed at the sight of the small flame. “We’re definitely in a completely different world,” Sanzo muttered gruffly.

Hakkai nodded, and turned to Lau, “Um, Mr. Lau, could you tell us the date today? And by date, I mean the complete date.”

“Hm? Oh, it’s September 14, 1889.”

Hakkai and the other three looked at Lau in muted surprise. It took them a while to recover before Gojyo leaned over to Hakkai, and Goku frantically tugged on Sanzo’s sleeve—and they exploded in a hushed and panicked flurry of words among themselves, so much that Sebastian had a hard time understanding. And the butler looked at Lau.

Lau shrugged, “I don’t know. I just said the date like Mr. Cho asked.”

Hakkai looked around the table, and Lau noted the lone bead of sweat that dripped from the man’s brow. “Um, if I may, well, how should I say this...? Sanzo?”

The priest gave Hakkai a glare of disapproval, and huffed as he crossed his arms. Furrowing his brows, even Sanzo himself couldn’t comprehend the words he had said.

“It seems we’ve gone back in time. We—...we came from the future.”

* * *

“Hey, why is it silent here?” Sharak looked around, and found none of the monks standing near the gates of the Temple of the Shadowed Sun. She turned to Hassan, who shrugged, and she scratched her head. “Ah, maybe she is—oh, there you are. Hello, Taruchie,” she said, going over to the small, half-demon standing behind a pillar, and she knelt in front of her.

The young-looking prophetess nodded to Sharak, and recited one of the many poems that she had memorized to heart.

“‘All things are born from the Three positives;  
The magic stone was quick with the essence of sun and moon.  
An egg was turned into a monkey to complete the Great Way;  
He was lent a name so that the elixir would be complete.  
Looking inside he perceives nothing because it has no form,  
Outside he uses his intelligence to create visible things.  
_Men have always been like this:  
Those who are called kings and sages do just as they wish._ ’”

Her eyes, which have been blank when she had recited the poem, returned to their normal, violet shade, and regarded Sharak with mild interest. “Good day again, young lady. Are you not feeling well?”

Sharak’s lips curled upwards, her scars wrinkling against her cheeks, “I am in a bit of a predicament, Taruchie. You see, yesterday, Genjo’s party and I have encountered a hoard of demons, and with my foolishness in not scanning my area while we were being attacked, I used the sutra without knowing that Genjo also used his and—”

“‘Misty heavenly incense filled the room;  
A chaos of heavenly petals and flowers.  
Great is the splendour of the jade city and golden gates,  
Priceless the strange treasures and rare jewels.  
Two by two, coeval with Heaven,  
_Pair by pair, outliving ten thousand kalpas:_  
_Even if land and sea changed places_  
 _They would not be astonished or alarmed._ ’”

Taruchie closed her eyes, and she twirled the prayer wheel in her hand, its lone pendulum twirling around the cylinder with the engraved prayer, “They are currently under a different heaven and earth, one that is far and yet not as peaceful as we are under now. The one with the Maten scripture, and his companions, are as of now, safe.”

Sharak felt her shoulders sag in relief, and sighed as she bowed to the seer, “Thank you, Taruchie. That’s all I needed to hear.” She regarded the small woman with a smile, and then—

“Could you tell me how to get them back here? I have a feeling Genjo is likely suffering on a different level than his current physical state. After the fiasco with the Three Aspects, I don’t think he’ll just sit still.”

* * *

Sanzo sighed for the umpteenth time since he had eaten lunch. In the garden of the Phantomhive, Goku squealed and ran about, trailing after a black cat that Sebastian had claimed he secretly owned. Sanzo huffed his fourteenth cigarette and leaned against the wall. He had left the dining room earlier, opting to throw the curious questions back to Hakkai, and Goku, being Goku, followed him as soon as he finished eating his pie.

After knowing that they were currently in a different timeline and country, Sanzo’s bones itched and his mind clawed him from inside out to find a way back to India and get it over with.

Hell, maybe he could even wring the neck of that kid who had thrown them into ‘unemployment’ once they returned.

He smirked at the thought.

“Hey, Goku. We’re going out,” he called out to the brunet, who had now caught the feline in his hold. “And get that thing away from me.”

Goku pouted and released the cat, patting it one last time before going over to the priest with a wide grin at the thought of finally going somewhere, but frowned upon seeing the clouded look on Sanzo’s face. “Where are we going? Sanzo, we can’t go anywhere. I thought you said yesterday that we have to stick together?”

“That was when we didn’t know shit about this place,” he huffed, crossing his arms.

“But how can we talk to people—”

“We will walk around and observe, not ask strangers.” Sanzo stubbed his cigarette and checked his pack, “Do they sell cigarettes around this place, I wonder.”

“Maybe this is the perfect time for you to start quitting?”

“Bah. Like hell I’ll do that as long as you’re with me.”

“Geh. What’s that supposed to mean?” Sanzo walked away from the confused brunet, and he tried getting his attention by yelling. Running over to the blond, he stopped when he saw the dining hall where Hakkai and Gojyo were, the two of them still talking to Sebastian and Lau. Goku rapped on the glass pane until the table’s occupants looked at him, and he pointed at Sanzo, then to himself, and gestured his outstretched palm, and motioned his index and middle finger across it, and pointed to himself once again, and grinned.

Hakkai bowed to Sebastian and went over to Goku, who was now yelling on the other side.

“We’re going for a walk! Well, Sanzo wants to take a walk, so I’m going with him! Hey, Hakkai, can you hear me?” He quickly glanced at Sanzo’s retreating back, then at Hakkai, who was now writing something on a paper from his pocket. The green-eyed demon then flattened out the paper on the window.

‘Be safe, okay? Do you want Mr. Lau or Ms. Lan Mao to go with you?’ Hakkai wrote.

Goku blinked and turned to Sanzo, “Hey, Sanzo! Do you want Lau or Lan Mao to go with us?”

Sanzo paused in his tracks, and flipped his left middle finger overhead, and started walking again.

Goku grinned and turned to Hakkai, and shook his head.

Hakkai scribbled on the paper once more and held it up. ‘All right. Be back before sundown. And don’t go too far,’ he wrote.

Goku nodded, and jogged over to Sanzo, beaming.

Hakkai returned to his seat and tucked the paper and pen back to his pocket. “I deeply apologize, but our leader is really high-strung.” To this, Sebastian chuckled and shrugged, and took the empty plates from the table.

“It is all right, Master Hakkai. The reverend must be agitated from being held back from your important task. I understand the feeling,” he smiled—

—and Hakkai felt relieved upon not being barraged with questions after Sanzo’s declaration earlier. He knew that it would be a short matter of time before Sanzo would unleash all his unsaid anger to the heavens, and Hakkai wouldn’t be surprised if he’d see the priest shooting off bullet after bullet to the sky while frothing at the mouth with curses out of frustration.

“Well, yes. He is—agitated, to say the least. You see, one of the most important things to him have been taken away to Houtou Castle, and I don’t think he’ll just idly sit by. I mean no harm, this is a really peaceful place compared to the world we live in, but—”

“This is really not our world, you know?” Gojyo intercepted, completing Hakkai’s sentence with a crooked smile.

Sebastian smiled, and nodded, “I understand how you feel. However, Reverend Sanzo and Master Goku have yet to grasp at least the basic English, I’m afraid they might run into unnecessary problems if they go too far.”

Gojyo laughed, and dismissively waved his hand, “Language barrier or not, nothing can stop our High-and-Mighty Monk and his Monkey if they have their heads wrapped around something. ’Sides, the guy could use some fresh air. The monk’s been recently burned to crisp, you see.”

“Now, now, Gojyo. Don’t rub salt on Sanzo’s wounds,” Hakkai chided with a laugh. “I could heal him slowly, in a few weeks at most. The damages done to his body were critical, and it will take some time before most of his deepest wounds could recover, and only then could I reach out to the tissue and heal him properly.”

“Pardon me for interrupting, Master Hakkai,” Sebastian said, placing the plates on the trolley, “but are you, perhaps, a doctor?”

“Well, of sorts, yes. Though not in the traditional sense,” Hakkai scratched his head, bashful.

The butler slowly nodded, his lips parting just the slightest at the discovery. “I see. This is the first time I’ve encountered a—” Sebastian stopped himself, and glanced at Lau, who was doting over Lan Mao with a spoonful of honey. “—a _being_ , that can heal others. That is something that I cannot do.”

Hakkai blinked, and glanced at Gojyo. This morning, Goku had relayed to them about Sebastian’s exchange with their monkey the night before, and after being reassured that they wouldn’t be harmed under the manor’s care, Hakkai saw no reason to hide it from the butler. “Is that so?”

Sebastian then smiled, and placed his right hand over his chest, “Yes. Though I can restore material things exactly to its former shape and form, I cannot, for the life of me, heal human wounds.”

* * *

“Tsk..!”

“Ah, Sanzo, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Stop worrying.”

Sanzo held his right upper arm as they walked down the strange streets of London. Beside him, Goku had his hand hovering behind Sanzo’s left arm as they walked, in case the blond would stumble and faint again.

They have been walking for two hours now, but they would still take some time before they would get used to the sights of women looking like they were mantled, upside-down teacups and the men looking like plywoods with ruffles around their necks, but Goku would always get used to the sight and smell of food. His stomach grumbled as they walked and passed by bakeries and confectionaries and teahouses, but made no complaint. He just couldn’t, not when Sanzo looked completely at a loss of what to do.

Also, he doubted that the Anex card would work in this era where people didn’t even know about pet dragons or lighters. It was really odd.

“Do you want to take a rest?” Goku asked, his tone mirroring the complete worry beneath his golden eyes. He noticed the priest was paler than this morning, and he wondered if it was about the rain earlier, but he sensed no open hostility from Sanzo, which was good.

Maybe Sanzo was hungry, too?

“...No.”

Goku took that pause as a yes.

So he grabbed onto Sanzo’s sleeve—ignoring Sanzo’s glares and grumbles—and led him away from the crowd bumping into them. From time to time, Goku checked on Sanzo’s right arm if he were accidentally brushing and bumping it against the passersby, and inwardly sighed in relief when Sanzo had most of his right arm cradling over his torso as they walked. Good. Hakkai wasn’t with them right now, and he didn’t know where he could get spare salve if Sanzo’s wounds might open up.

Once far from the congested street, Goku guided Sanzo by the elbow, and they observed the change of scenery.

It was a bit different from the street they had crossed just now, colorful and lively and filled with people. This street looked like it had seen better days, with its tattered covers on the busted windows, hole-filled streamers hanging overhead, and lots of wary eyes from the people hiding in the corners of the buildings. A slum area, from the looks of it.

It was sight that Goku, for once, was familiar with—and he was not in the mood to deal with it now, not with him sensing Sanzo on the brink of losing his feral temper.

“Hey, Sanzo. I think we should go back. We strayed too far.”

Sanzo looked around, his fingers itching to get his gun should they be attacked. He had to remind himself that these people were humans—not corpses wanting them dead, not demons, not halves, not demons wearing limiters, but full, fragile humans—but if they were assaulted in any way, maybe he could get away with a plea for self-defense.

They turned around, and started walking back, when Goku stopped with wide eyes.

“Wait, Sanzo.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“I can smell it.”

“Smell what?”

Goku’s jaw tensed, and his eyes roamed on the dilapidated houses, fists clenching in frustration upon not sensing where the smell was. Sanzo then felt around for the gun in his robes. If there was another demon than Sebastian in this place, one that would harm them or maybe even take the sutra, then—!

Goku took another whiff and turned around, and grinned. “There!” he pointed, and grabbed at Sanzo’s left hand, dragging the protesting and cursing man all the way down the end of the street, to where a small crowd of children and teenagers huddled in a line.

“I smelled fresh bread,” Goku beamed at a suddenly angry-looking Sanzo.

The blond scoffed, looked at the stupidly grinning kids lining up from a distance, then back at the stupidly smiling monkey. “You—you fucking dragged me all the way here for food?!”

Goku’s blinding grin widened at the blond, and he laughed. “Well, you need to take a break from walking and you look very pale right now, so I thought maybe we could use some food. Besides, this bread I smell is different from the ones Sebastian made yesterday and this morning. Plus, look. They’re all lining up, it must be that good.”

Sanzo’s anger simmered at Goku’s words and that stupid smile, and he sighed, gliding his tongue in between his gnashing teeth to soothe them. “Well, knowing that there’s food is one thing, but how will you get one when you don’t know what to say?”

Goku pouted, eyes looking away in thought for a moment, and he suddenly grinned and waved his hands about. “I’ve got an idea!” He turned around and walked away, only to return to Sanzo, and stood blankly. He pointed at a wall where some crates were stacked in front of it, and wordlessly grabbed Sanzo by the hand and led him to one of the crates, gently pressing Sanzo’s weight down to the wooden box. “You sit there for a bit,” and he wandered off to the line of children and teenagers with the same, stupid grin.

Sighing, Sanzo muttered to himself about being treated like a child by the child, and wiped off the small simper that almost made to his lips. He observed the tall, worn-down buildings and the tatter-clothed people that were littered in a line. At the back of the line stood Goku, all smiles and bright eyes as he idly bounced on his heels, waiting for his turn with impatience. Sanzo could tell that Goku was ignoring the odd stares sent to his spiked cape. Sanzo huffed.

Where had his stupid monkey gone?

He paused in thought, and wondered, indeed, when Goku had started to mature bit by bit, on his own pace.

When Sanzo had stood and left the breakfast table earlier, he had heard Goku mutter to Hakkai on his way out—

‘I’ll take care of Sanzo today. Hakkai should rest for now.’

—and those words made Sanzo mull over what happened during the days that he was unconscious. Had his little monkey really matured that much over the course of four days?

He watched as Goku’s grin widened, his golden eyes set on the stand as he took his turn. He held up four fingers, and pointed to where Sanzo sat. The man giving out the bread nodded, and turned to Sanzo—

—and the man yelled and pointed at Sanzo. He plopped the bread back on the plate, and promptly fell to his feet and prostrated to Sanzo. From beside him, another man, who had taken notice of his companion’s sudden gesture, glanced at the blond, and the man gasped, dropped the bread on the plate, and also fell to prostrate to Sanzo.

All the while, Goku blinked as he chewed on one of the breads—with curry filling, he hummed in muffled glee—and went over to Sanzo.

“What’s up with them?” Goku asked as he eyed them with curiosity, handing two breads to the priest. Sanzo shrugged and took the proffered food and ate it, and tasted a plethora of flavors in his mouth.

“Dunno,” he shook his head, swallowing the mouthful of the bread, “we should head back before everything turns to shit—”

Suddenly, the two men who gave the breads went over to Sanzo and Goku, and one of them began to cry and rub his palms in earnest, and spoke in a language that, for once, Sanzo understood.

“Tibetans? Or, no,” Sanzo asked, his brow raising at the clothes of the two men, noting the oversized scarves and the unmistakable sherwani that he hadn’t seen the people in Tibet wear.

One of the men, a dark purple-haired young man, pointed at Sanzo’s shoulder—on the sutra, to be exact.

“A bhiksu!”

Sanzo raised an eyebrow—his only gesture that he acknowledged the fact upon being called as such.

Goku, however, bristled and clenched his fist, teeth grinding around a half-eaten curry bun. “’id ’e ju’t ’all you a beggar?!” He struck his chest as he suddenly choked, and swallowed all of the bread and pointed his finger at the purple-haired man, “Hey, you! Did you just call Sanzo a beggar?”

“Goku,” Sanzo drawled with a suppressed sigh, “he called me a monk. A bhikku—in this case, bhiksu—is supposed to mean, ‘beggar’. It’s what I used to do.”

A look of confusion, wide-eyed astonishment and a wide-mouthed disbelief flashed on Goku’s face as he held up his palm to the blond, “Y-you mean you actually were a fricking beggar?!”

The silent glare of telling Goku to drop the topic made the brunet gape his mouth at the revelation.

“The way of monkhood is not really all that classy, you know. Tch. Why am I even telling you this?” He snarled, and his face twisted in ire at the memories of him begging for alms under the rain when he was a novice. Goku didn’t need to know that, and so Sanzo directed his anger at the two men who were looking at him with sparkling eyes of fascination like he was some china doll on display.

“You. What do you want?” Sanzo spoke slowly, his voice dripping with menace. He knew Bangla and Tibetan, at least—he made sure to learn what was written on his sutra, after all. In this case, these men seemed to speak Bangla.

“Ah. A Bengali man! Hello, Great Bhiksu!” said the chirpy man with the dark purple hair. “We were just finishing our last batch of breads for today. Does it fit to your liking? I haven’t seen Buddhist monks around since I arrived in England. You are the first, Great Bhiksu.” And he held his hands together and bowed. “Namaste.”

Sanzo opened his mouth to speak, when Goku tugged on his sleeve and pointed at the smiling men.

“Sanzo, what is he saying? Crude rock garden? He’s calling you a beggar again.”

“He said I’m a Buddhist monk,” Sanzo curtly replied, and he switched his tongue to Bangla in front of the men. “I’m not a Bengali, but do you know the fastest way to get to India?”

One of them, the man who had prostrated and bawled in front of him, sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Ah, Bhikshuk. Namaste,” he bowed with his hands pressed together. This particular man with the odd, white hair seemed to speak Hindi. “The way from here in England to India will take more than a month.”

“Is there any particular business you have to attend to, Bhiksu?” the purple-haired man asked. “A wedding, perhaps?”

Sanzo scoffed a laugh, “A wedding? We’re mostly going to a funeral—” He paused, and felt his heart stop for a moment. Earlier, he found out about being in the wrong era. What if—

“Excuse me,” Sanzo started with a barely hidden growl, feeling his breath getting labored and his palms sweating at the thought, “but do you know about the Minus Wave?”

At this, the odd-haired men looked at each other, and their faces mirrored in confusion at Sanzo’s words.

“Minus Wave? What’s that?” said the two in unison.

Sanzo suddenly felt his blood pressure drop—

—and the world around him started to spin.

No way.

No. Fucking. Way.

Sanzo tried to focus on anything, anything at all, to keep him grounded from all the insanity he had been hearing since he got to this goddamned London—wherever the hell this place was. Be level-headed, be level-headed, he told himself—but to no avail.

He felt his burns and his entire body acting up again from all his suppressed rage.

Fuck everything.

This goddamned mission. Kougaiji and his shitpile of demons. The shitty gods. The ungrateful Three Aspects. Taruchie’s hogwash of a prophecy. That fucking kid from the sky that stole their original mission from them. This fucking shithole that they fell into—!

Everything around Sanzo shifted to a world of black, and before he fell to unconsciousness, Sanzo felt his body being pulled into Goku’s arms, and heard that eternally relentless voice calling out to him in a frightened yell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the hardest thing about this fic? The fact that merging these two fandoms together is like writing a melting pot of different languages, and having to write them all down in English. There’s mainly Japanese (the way the Saiyuki cast’s names are pronounced, for obvious reasons), the Qieyun dialect from Chang'an, Tibetan (the Saiyuki boys should know a bit of Tibetan if they’re going to travel there, right?), Bengali (Bangla), Hindi, Wu (from Shanghai, where Lau is from), and English—all merged into one this fic. I didn’t know that writing this fic would be this difficult! :o -sweats- But I think it’s a pretty interesting one, with all of these languages melding together and all of them trying to understand each other without the frustration and the possible notion of being misinterpreted.
> 
> So yes, thank you to those who read this fic and find it interesting, especially the anon readers who are actively commenting every time I post a new chapter! OAO -bows-


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely feedback last chapter! :D It’s 4:16am, and upon rereading Saiyuki, I came upon Chapter 15, where Sanzo can indeed read Sanskrit. Apparently, my hunch wasn’t far off. -sighs in relief- If he can read it, it would make sense that he could also (somehow) speak an Indic language, right? Right? (I hope so.)
> 
> Also, the poem that Taruchie recited this chapter was on Chapter 8 on Journey to the West.

“Young Master, Reverend Sanzo is now with his companions’s care. It took Master Cho’s words to get through Master Goku’s agitated state to calm him down after seeing him dragging the reverend all the way from the streets. And as for Master Soma and Mr. Agni, they’re now in the... prayer room, they have called, begging to Goddess Kali for forgiveness for making Reverend Sanzo faint in the middle of the streets,” Sebastian reported to a passive Ciel sitting in the office.

Earlier had been quite a ruckus after seeing Soma and Agni bawling their eyes out over seeing the the reverend’s companion struggling while dragging the pale and weakened man throughout the whole trek back home. Apparently, Goku had refused their help and had looked and sounded angry, and have been yelling in another language the whole time, Soma said.

“According to Mr. Agni, Master Goku took the breads from the reverend’s hands and sniffed it, they thought that maybe Master Goku thought that they tried poisoning Reverend Sanzo. And then he ate them, and yelled something at them again,” Sebastian frowned, a thoughtful index curled upon his lips.

“But is he all right? That Goku, I mean.” Ciel’s expression had the look of worry now, and Sebastian nodded, in hopes of alleviating his young master’s fears even just a bit.

“Master Goku is all right. I checked Mr. Agni and Master Soma earlier for any wounds, but they said that after the reverend fainted, Master Goku didn’t lay a finger on them. Instead, he leaned Reverend Sanzo’s weight against the crate and... ‘did a lot of gesturing’, Master Soma said.”

Ciel’s eyebrow rose, his lips pursed in mild curiosity, “What gesture?”

“Well,” Sebastian smiled, and the earl noticed that the butler tried to stifle his laughter. “According to Master Soma, Master Goku did this,” Sebastian then gestured his thumbs and index fingers closely from his right eye towards the back of his head, and clamped his right palm over his eye. He held his palm downwards to his chin, and then he put one hand on his waist, and held one arm outwards, his hand tightly clawed as though he were holding something with a handle. “To the prince, it looked highly odd, until they heard Master Goku trying to pronounce a word, or should I say, a name. Mr. Agni said Master Goku repeatedly said ‘Fantomhai.’ He kept trying to describe you and say your name, Young Master.”

Ciel nodded, and placed the documents he had been reading back on the desk, “So I see. Well, I think I should check up on them. I don’t want any of our precious guests dying under my nose.”

And they made their way to where the guests were, and found Hakkai closing the door to the reverend and Goku’s room. Sebastian promptly apologized to Hakkai for causing them trouble, to which the healer bowed in return and apologized for letting the reverend wander around.

“Ah, but our resident prince, Master Soma, has caused Master Goku trouble. I’ll see to it that Master Soma will relearn the meaning of giving people space,” Sebastian finished with a smile that mirrored Hakkai’s own.

“Ah, no. There’s no need for that, Mr. Sebastian. Sanzo is doing well, he’s just fatigued after everything. I will ask Sanzo what happened once he wakes up. Goku told me that Sanzo spoke to, ah, Prince Soma, in a foreign tongue, and so he didn’t understand the exchange of their conversation.” Hakkai scratched his head bashfully, smiling all the while, “Also, Goku is now completely calm. Just—please, speak softly inside. Sanzo is, well, he’s a cranky person when he wakes up.” He smiled, bowing upon seeing the butler agree. “I’ll take my leave for now, and thank you for letting us stay in your home.”

Sebastian relayed Hakkai’s message to Ciel, and the earl silently nodded in return. “The young master says it is no worry—anything for the guests,” Sebastian said. Hakkai beamed and bowed once more, and left to retire to the room that he shared with Master Sha next door.

“Shall we enter, Young Master?”

“No need. Maybe just a peek. I don’t want to disturb them.”

And so they opened the door just the slightest, and saw the reverend propped up on the duvet, his black turtleneck peeking through the edges, and void of his fingerless gloves. Sitting on the bed beside the reverend was a solemn Goku, who kept brushing away the stray strands of blond from the man’s face.

“Sebastian, you told me that Mr. Cho can heal people using his energy. Why can’t you do that?” Ciel muttered as he looked at how Goku silently fawned over the unconscious man, often ghosting his thumb on the man’s cheeks. “Also, do you think he’s just waiting for him to die so he can consume the reverend?”

At this, Sebastian let out a low rumble of a laugh, and glanced at the innocently curious earl, “Rest assured, Young Master, Master Goku, along with his other friends, will never consume Reverend Sanzo. They are loyal to him, shall we say—free and not bound from any contract, but they chose to be with him. It is quite rare, and this is the first time I have seen their kind. They are for a fact, quite different than me. Also, I’m guessing Master Lau’s words about Master Goku’s devotion to the reverend might not be far off.”

Ciel hummed in thought, and nodded vaguely, “So there are humane demons. I see.”

“Also, I believe I have told you before, have I not? Master Goku is covered in the reverend’s scent.”

“Because they’re always together, right?”

“Well,” Sebastian paused, and glanced at Goku, who was still occupied with Sanzo, “yes and no. It’s a scent that is quite unique during nocturnal times.”

Ciel blinked, and realization dawned a few seconds later, “Nocturnal, you say? You mean they’re—”

The butler nodded, a faint trace of amusement gracing his features. “Yes, and I suggest you lower your voice, Young Master, even if they wouldn’t understand what we’re saying. I see no reason why you would be shocked, though—seeing as you and I are—”

“Shh, don’t say it...!” Ciel gritted out, sparing the silent brunet on the bed a glance. “I just can’t believe that a high priest is—” He paused, and noticed the man on the bed stirring slightly, and mumbled something. Ciel observed the brunet reaching out for a glass of water on the nightstand and heaving the reverend’s head upwards to give him water. Goku gave a small smile to the furrow-browed priest as he cradled Sanzo on his lap for leverage, and slowly poured the water to Sanzo’s mouth. Goku mumbled something, and Ciel glanced at Sebastian.

“‘You pushed yourself again too much—but I’ll take care of you. Sanzo, do you want another glass? No? Okay,’ is what he said,” Sebastian finished, claret eyes still trained on the two on the bed. Goku laid Sanzo’s head back on the pillow and patted his lips with the washcloth near the glass, and noted the faint flush of color returning to the blond’s cheeks.

Goku looked up from the bed, and grinned straight at the butler’s eyes peeking through the crack of the door. “He’ll be okay,” he said a bit louder, and he hopped off the bed, and gave Sanzo one last look, and went over to the stunned earl and butler, muttering a cheerful greeting. “Hi!” He closed the door behind him, and grinned, “Sanzo’ll be okay, Hakkai said. His arm’s doing fine, too. This morning, it was his full arm with bandages, now it’s just his forearm. Said it’s just fatigue from all the stuff with the different dimensions and all. By the way, that curry bread I ate earlier, was it you who taught them, or was it the other way around? Because I tasted the same thing with the food you made this morning.” Gold eyes met scarlet ones, and Sebastian smiled upon Goku’s observation.

“Quite an amazing palette you have, Master Goku,” the butler bowed. “It is as you say, I have taught Mr. Agni how to make that particular curry bread. And they make and give them out to the people on the streets.”

A quiet “oh” left Goku’s lips. “It was delicious, it was why I had a hard time believing that they were trying to poison him. Thanks.”

The butler smiled in return, “I am grateful that my recipe pleases you, Master Goku.”

Goku grinned, and looked at Ciel, “Hey, Ciel! Thanks for the help!”

Sebastian translated Goku’s words to Ciel, to which the earl shrugged and gave a nonchalant, “Tell him it is the Phantomhive hospitality, after all. Besides, I want to know more about them.” Sebastian relayed the message, and Goku blinked.

“Well, ’ts okay. I hide no secrets! Well, kind of. Ah, right. I have no other ways to distract myself right now. Um, I usually hang around Sanzo until he could move around. Say, I could keep ya company for the meantime!”

And so Goku talked to the earl and the butler, with Lau popping in the middle of the conversation in the game room. He talked about how he had been with Sanzo for eight years, from his stay with the monk in Keiun temple, up to when they met Hakkai and Gojyo, and how they were tasked to go to Houtou Castle in the West to stop the Ox king’s revival, up to their two-year journey where they finally got to Tibet and things happened with Sharak, the other Sanzo. He told them about the truth that all Sanzo priests should scatter around as far from each other as possible to prevent a trigger of events that would otherwise harm the world when activating their sutras—

“—and so we ended up here now. Heheh.”

Ciel was silent throughout the whole tale as Sebastian translated everything that Goku said. Lau merely nodded, as if being transported into another different world were the norm, while Lan Mao merely toyed with her food. At one point, Soma and Agni appeared, fumbling and bawling and apologizing to a confused Goku. And when all was said and done, when the brunet had laughed it off and said that the curry bread was delicious, Sebastian then became the one who told Goku’s tale to the prince and his butler.

Soma and Agni, in turn, stared at Goku, aghast. Soma was about to ask Goku something when the little, white dragon came gliding to Goku’s shoulders, cheeping. Shortly behind him were the bumbling servant trio, babbling words of cooing and fawning over the dragon.

“We were trying to pet its feathers, sir! It was really soft like a cat’s!” yelped Maylene.

“It singed my hair! Tee hee!” Finnian squealed.

“It burned the meat I was cooking!” Bard yelled.

Goku, all the while, patted Hakuryuu on the head, and talked to Lau about the English cuisine he had seen and eaten so far.

“Come to think of it, little child, what is that curious ornament on your head?” inquired Lau, his close-eyed gaze looking at a coronet around Goku’s brow.

“Oh, this?” The golden-eyed boy tapped his coronet, “It’s a—” He stopped, and remembered words from a certain, cynic blond from long ago, and he grinned. “It’s a comforting object to me, ya see. It keeps my sanity in check.”

Lau nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation, “I see. I know how that feels. I pretty much feel saner when I have Lan Mao around. Right, Lan Mao?” The silent woman blinked, and nodded in immediate response. “Say, your tale of your journey feels somehow familiar. Very familiar. Like something straight out of a Chinese novel. Ever heard of it?”

Goku leaned back on the plush chair and shook his head, “Nuh uh. I would have known if I read of such a thing. Sanzo and Hakkai taught me how to read, and I never read anything like that of our experience.”

“Nonetheless, Master Goku,” Sebastian interrupted with a polite smile, “now that Master Soma and Mr. Agni are here, what would you like to know?”

Goku gave a thoughtful hum as he scratched his cheek, pondering on what to say. “Well,” he started, glancing at Hakuryuu before settling his eyes on the prince, “I’d like to know if it’ll really take long to get from here to India. We’re supposed to be in a rush, and Sanzo hates delays. This looks like it’s going to be our longest delay as of yet.”

* * *

“Hey, Taruchie. Where are we, exactly?” Sharak looked around, and noted the aisles upon aisles of deities towering on the walls. In front of her, Taruchie walked a few steps ahead, her steps small yet quick compared to Sharak’s long yet slow strides. Hassan paced behind Sharak, his eyes roving and alert for any suspicious activity. After the breach in the village, Hassan had developed an instinct that he shouldn’t trust some people around him anymore—

“We’re going to call upon the gods, young lady,” Taruchie said softly, her voice ringing in the silent halls. “Not the Three Aspects, mind you. I heard from the other monks what the Maten’s successor did to the water screen. I take it he’s not pleased with their decision, so I will warn his group, again, not to fight Fate.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sharak.

Taruchie swirled the prayer wheel in her hand, her voice going softer yet eerier—

“ _When an idea is born in a man’s mind_  
_It is known throughout Heaven and Earth_.  
If good and evil are not rewarded and punished  
The world is bound to go to the bad.

“The holder of Maten and Seiten scriptures will do as what I will also do. I am sure of it,” muttered Taruchie, her eyes settling on Sharak’s confused expression. “He has a sort of telepathy with one of his companions, yes?”

Sharak shook her head, “None that I know of. Why do you ask?”

“I am thinking, you see,” Taruchie looked away, the prayer wheel in her hand twirling back and forth, “if the same could also happen through a connection that can transcend time and dimension. I sensed it. He and one of the demons accompanying him can sense each other’s thoughts through their voices in their heads.”

* * *

Soma and Agni relayed to Sebastian, who relayed it to Goku, about the time that they’d spend to get back to India, along with tales of the numerous gods and goddesses of India, of how they delivered blessing or destruction to anyone that they would judge. Among them were their beloved god Mahakala and his consort, goddess Kali, who both governed over time and space, both who were able to cross or dissolve the universe after a thousand cycles of 12,000 years—something that neither Ciel nor Goku could comprehend, merely nodding absentmindedly at the arduous explanations that the zealous Soma provided.

It had come to a point where Goku kept ruffling Hakuryuu’s feathers as Soma explained, and Goku stopped all of a sudden, his mouth parting the slightest as he looked at the door, declaring to Sebastian that Sanzo had awakened, and that he should return. He stood up and jogged outside the room, with Hakuryuu following behind.

“What did he say?” Soma and Ciel asked Sebastian with a quizzical look.

“He says that Reverend Sanzo is awake now,” Sebastian said with a thoughtful look, and noticed the room’s occupants staring at him in confusion. He shrugged and smiled, “I suppose they have a—...very unique bond?”

* * *

“ _I heard you in my head earlier, calling for me_.”

“ _I wasn’t calling you, idiot._ ”

“ _Yes, you were. I heard you loud and clear, calling my name. Don’t worry, Sanzo. I’m here. I won’t leave you again._ ”

“ _Tch. I know that, stupid._ ”

“ _Tee hee. Come now, don’t look away. No. No cigarettes yet. Here, Sanzo, you should at least eat the soup before you smoke. Hakkai made this earlier, he borrowed Ciel’s kitchen and even took some recipes from Sebastian and that Agni guy. You know, the one who gave us the bread? They’re actually nice people, and don’t worry, I didn’t scare them at all. By the way, this is cream of chicken soup and it’s good. Here. And yes, I know you’re not a complete invalid, but your arm is useless right now._ ”

“ _Ambidextrous, remember? ...hey, what’s that for?_ ”

“ _To help me feed you._ ”

“... _Idiot_.”

Peeking through the room that Sanzo and Goku occupied, Sebastian found Goku feeding the composed and resigned reverend sitting on the bed, the aforementioned bowl of soup inching close to a reluctant mouth. Upon looking closely, the butler noticed Goku smiling and pecking the reverend’s cheek each time he placed the spoonful of soup near the blond’s lips, and would then peck his lips every time the reverend had a spoonful in his mouth. Sebastian stifled a laugh as the stoic priest slowly crumbled under the demon’s affectionate charm. He quietly closed the door and stood with his back upon it, and waited patiently.

“Ah, Sebastian,” Goku appeared behind the door a few minutes later, with a huge smile on his face. “Sanzo finally finished his meal now. Also, he says you didn’t have to spy on us so much.”

Sebastian laughed and apologized to the grinning brunet, “Very well, then. Shall I come in and collect the empty tray?” Goku agreed, and Sebastian entered, to where he was met with as much of an evil glare an injured person could muster from a too large bed. “I apologize, Reverend. It just seemed that you were... occupied.” The mirth-laden words seemed not to escape said reverend’s sharp disposition, and Sebastian merely smiled upon hearing the reverend growl.

Goku returned to Sanzo’s side, smiling. “Ah, Sanzo told me that he needs a place to meditate in a few hours. Do you have such a place?”

“Hey, don’t speak for me as if I’m mute, idiot,” snapped the priest, to which the brunet merely grinned. He turned to Sebastian with the same, annoyed face. “Sebastian, those men from India, is it true that they’re your acquaintances?”

“Why, yes, Reverend. It is as you say. Young Master has become quite dear to Master Soma, and the young master, wanting him to be more mature in seeing the world, has made him a caretaker in one of my young master’s townhouses. Ah, I assume you want to speak to them now? I shall fetch them if you like.”

“No need,” Sanzo grumbled, sparing Goku a glance. “I need to use a room for meditation, I suppose that won’t be a bother to your master?”

Sebastian regarded the reverend with a hum, and noted that although the priest had a temper, he seemed to follow individuals that have a higher authority than he. That alone made Sebastian nod to himself, pleased at seeing such a supposed lofty priest displaying humility and showing manners to his young master. Heaven forbid that Sebastian would lament the loss of an entertaining individual such as Reverend Sanzo if he were to kill him if he tried to badmouth Ciel. That wouldn’t end up well.

The butler smiled and bowed, “I have just the room for such an activity, Reverend Sanzo. If you please, follow me.”

And so Sanzo dressed in his robes and draped the sutra on his shoulders—without Goku’s help this time—and they followed him. On their way there, Sebastian overheard the two of them talking to themselves about summoning a goddess of mercy, of sorts, to which the reverend had replied that it would be a pain to call on her. Goku muttered something to Sanzo’s ear, and the reverend grunted something in reply, words that escaped Sebastian’s hearing. And the golden-eyed demon said nothing more.

They were led to a room where a few idols sat on small platforms and pillars, and Sanzo requested for Sebastian to not to disturb them should anyone enter the room. The butler agreed, and the reverend immediately sat upright and crosslegged on a cushion in front of a goddess. Beside him, Goku did the same.

Sanzo tipped his head forward just the slightest, and he placed his palms together, his fingertips mere centimeters under his chin, and his eyes casted downwards, violet orbs sliding half-open, and he began muttering in an undertone.

Goku observed the reverend until he began chanting softly, and he did the same posture, except his right hand was tucked under the left, both palms facing upwards, with his thumbs sticking out, touching gently. Unlike Sanzo, however, Goku muttered no words, and had his eyes completely closed.

Sebastian observed them closely, and snorted, wondering about humans looking quite pitiful in serving their gods—

—when the sutra on the reverend’s shoulders fluttered, and it hovered, until it lengthened to great lengths—

Sebastian winced and took a step back when he felt a sharp prickle against his foot. His eyes glowed red for the briefest of moments, only for them to return in its normal, wine-red hue, when he saw the sutra encircling the monk and the little demon.

The door slammed open, and in came Gojyo and Hakkai, wide-eyed and fearful.

“Sanzo, Goku! We sensed a great surge of ki and—eh?”

Hakkai couldn’t finish his sentence as the sound of the sutra flapping loudly around the two sitting on the cushions startled them, and Master Sha’s jaw slackened as the reverend and the demon became surrounded by a startling golden aura.

Reverend Sanzo’s chanting in undertone reverberated in the room, and Soma and Agni entered the room, breathless.

“I sensed the aura of the great Tripitaka!” yelled Soma, and Sebastian scolded the prince not to take a step further to where the monk sat, when one part of the sutra reached out to him and whipped his whole body back, where Agni quickly caught him.

“Hey, Sebastian! What happened!” Gojyo demanded with bared teeth. “You better not be planning to kill us—”

“Rest assured, Master Sha, I plan to do no such thing. It was Reverend Sanzo who requested to use Master Soma’s prayer room. He said he needed it to meditate, as it were. And he wanted Master Goku to be with him.”

“Why Goku?” Hakkai asked, urging Hakuryuu to calm down on his shoulder.

“I have not the slightest idea. I thought perhaps you know something? This aura of theirs doesn’t seem to permit anyone to be within their range.”

Hakkai fell silent, and glanced warily at their sitting companions. “Perhaps, I have a theory, but—”

“Just spit it, Hakkai! What if we get transported to the fucking next galaxy or something! And it’ll be their fault!” Gojyo spluttered in a harsh mutter of panic, and Hakkai took a deep breath.

“Goku had been with Sanzo for eight years, and I think somewhere along that time, he had taught Goku how to meditate. And seeing as I have... heard from the Goddess of Mercy, that Goku had been in Heaven once. You were there when we heard it, right?” Gojyo nodded, and seemed to be at a loss of what to say. Hakkai continued, “So maybe, just maybe, Sanzo could somehow tap into Goku’s real nature as a being from heaven? Seeing as Sanzo inherits both the Heaven and Earth sutras, it would make sense and—”

Just then, the demons in the room fell silent as Sanzo finally stopped chanting, but the golden aura and the sutra that surrounded him and Goku remained, and from all around the walls, a voice echoed, one that was familiar to both Hakkai and Gojyo.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Taruchie’s warning to the Sanzo party that they shouldn’t continue to India and just follow the Aspects’ orders—if anything—made Gojyo’s teeth grind and made Hakkai smile a bit too sweetly.

Through Sanzo and Goku’s moment of prayer, they have, in turn, called out to the little demigoddess. Sanzo had served as the connection, and Goku had served as the medium where Taruchie could speak—a telepathy of sorts, one that was different from Sanzo and Goku’s.

All the while, a skeptic Hakkai wondered as he stared at his half-conscious companions being encircled in the Maten sutra. Gojyo had earlier cursed and yelled at Taruchie for her predictions about the group—of them dying all over again.

“Whatever happened in the past, whatever bullshit about past lives and shit you’re talking about, we don’t give a fuck’s ass about it. We’re going to Houtou and that’s that. All you do there is sit around and give people some shitty predictions while we’ve been running around trying to keep ourselves alive day in and day out and you have no idea because you haven’t experienced it from your lofty temple. And don’t you dare tell me you don’t know that. You claim you’re a seer.”

Taruchie’s voice slipping from Goku’s lips fell silent after Gojyo’s rant.

“Gojyo, let me handle this,” Hakkai muttered in a levelheaded tone. “It seems you know a great deal about our past,” he gave a snorting Gojyo a sidelong glance in a silent reprimand, “but we have come this far because we are—how should I say it—we’re stubborn to the bone.” He laughed, and eyed the sutra circling Sanzo and Goku. “I don’t know how our Sanzo managed to contact you, as he once stated that he only knows Makai Tenjou, but—”

“ _You, the former general, the one with the red hair. I am saying this to all of you to prevent him from suffering again._ ”

Gojyo looked at Hakkai, confusion etched upon their faces. Hakkai then spoke up slowly, as though he were conversing with an infirm person. “Uh, pardon, Miss Taruchie, but who is this person you’re talking about? Who will suffer again?”

“ _The very boy the three of you have sworn to protect from being turned into a killing puppet all those years ago. The Great Sage Equalling the Heaven._ ”

* * *

 

Goku woke up to a splitting headache, and when he bolted up from the bed, he saw Hakkai sleeping on a chair beside him, and on the floor, sitting on the side of the bed, was a snoring Gojyo. Beside Goku, a slumbering Sanzo quietly rolled over to Goku’s side, furrowed eyebrows and constant frown in place even in sleep.

Goku couldn’t remember what happened after they have called for Taruchie—all he remembered was meditating next to Sanzo, being surrounded in the sutra, hearing Taruchie’s voice in his head, and then—

“After talking to this Kumari person—as Master Cho dubbed her—you and Reverend Sanzo fainted. Masters Cho and Sha quickly took care of the two of you and stood guard until they fell asleep. I hope you are feeling well right now, Master Goku,” Sebastian stood by the doorway with a tray full of food, smiling at the smaller demon, who still looked confused. “I take it you’re hungry?”

“Uh, yeah!” he cheered all of a sudden, all confusion gone from his face at the mention of food, and he nudged all of his companions awake. Smiling upon seeing them grumbling out their sleep-deprived state, Goku looked at the butler with puzzlement. “Sebastian, we didn’t scare you off, did we? I mean, the sutra thing probably scared you off a bit.” The butler shook his head, and Goku smiled, feeling relieved.

“Although you did not scare me, you did manage to make Master Soma feel faint when he saw you having the voice of a female. It reminded him of someone that you shouldn’t worry about.” Chuckling at Goku’s sudden shock, Sebastian shrugged, “You have nothing to fear, Master Goku. My young master will not kick you out of the house for something so trivial. Come, dinner is served.”

And Goku and the other three ate in the guest room, with Sebastian looking over them. Hakkai and Gojyo filled Sanzo and Goku in on what happened after they have fainted, and Sanzo merely grunted and cursed at the outcome.

“I tried calling someone for advice to return to our fucking world and all I got was to not go to India? Fucking waste of time.”

Hakkai dabbed a napkin on his mouth and frowned, “About that thing you did, Sanzo. Exactly how did you do that? Summoning Taruchie through an idol?”

Sanzo drank his cup of green tea, and fought the urge to smoke. He couldn’t do it when that Sebastian was around spewing words that his little master wouldn’t like the smell of tobacco in his house. He clicked his tongue in annoyance when he glanced at Sebastian’s smug smirk. “I read about it in Sharak’s library—Kali or Mahakala, the deities of time and space, could be used as mediums of crossing dimensions. I thought I could use either of them. It happens that that Bengali prince idolizes Kali. It was worth a shot.”

“And why did you get Goku involved?” Gojyo said through mouthfuls of steak, something that made Sanzo hiss in disgust.

The monk and Goku looked at each other, then averted their gazes. Sighing, Sanzo muttered his response, “I needed to have a medium of sorts to connect from this world to our world, and Goku was my only choice. Goku and I—we...”

Goku cut in and pointedly told Hakkai that—“We can hear each other’s voices in our heads. It has always been that way since we met,” and clamped his mouth shut. He didn’t know how the other two would take the news, and he certainly didn’t know how Sebastian would take that piece of information. He thought he and Sanzo would be the joke of the day, but—

“We’ve all been travelling together for two years and you never told us you two could speak to each other in your _minds_?” Gojyo was surprised, his mouth full of steak hanging agape.

“It was not worth mentioning since no one even asked. It’s not like it hindered the mission,” grumbled Sanzo, annoyed at being prodded with questions.

“‘Not worth ment—’...?” Gojyo scoffed, his expression aghast at Sanzo’s words. “Dude, you and the monkey have fucking _telepathy_ , and you tell me it’s not worth mentioning? That’s a fucking sick ability! What the fuck.”

Sanzo clicked his tongue, brows knotted the more he spoke, “It doesn’t happen all the time, fucking idiot.”

Hakkai, meanwhile, calmly sipped his tea, and smiled at Goku.

“I knew it. When we were looking for Sanzo, it was as if Goku knew his exact location. Never mind that the villagers told us where to go. Goku _knew_ exactly where Sanzo was during Ukoku’s attack. And when I said there were only sightings—”

“The monkey actually felt where his master was, right,” Gojyo deadpanned, his ruby eyes darting between Sanzo and Goku.

The blond averted his gaze from the stares he received, and gulped down the rest of his tea while Goku stuffed his face with turkey in silence.

Hakkai, meanwhile, gave Gojyo a sidelong glance, and he nodded to the redhead.

From the door, they failed to see Sebastian smiling to himself.

* * *

 

After the eventful day had passed and all had fallen asleep, Gojyo lied awake and stared at the ceiling in darkness. Swallowing back the urge to smoke—Sebastian had also strictly warned him about smoking—he nudged Hakkai awake, and they recalled of how their day went, until a nagging question in Gojyo’s mind slipped from his lips.

“Hey, Hakkai. Why do you think that Taruchie chick—old lady—think that we’ll make Goku suffer? Did we make Goku suffer? From what we’ve been through, Goku had been the reason we got broken ribs every time he goes into Sage mode.”

Humming and barely comprehending Gojyo’s words in his half-asleep state, Hakkai grumbled a response. “Maybe it runs deeper than that,” he mulled in a quiet tone. “Maybe—just maybe—we have hurt Goku in a way that we didn’t know. But Goku didn’t look like he had any recollection when we asked him about it earlier—and he’s a bad liar, so he clearly isn’t trying to hide anything from us. Sanzo didn’t have a clue, either. And I’m sure she wasn’t talking about the time we got separated from Sanzo.”

Gojyo hummed, and tried and failed to look at Hakkai in the dark. “Yeah. But that telepathy thing, though.”

Hakkai laughed, “You’re still sore about that?”

The sound of fabric shuffling met Gojyo’s ears, and he had a hunched that he turned to face him.

“Just because Sanzo and Goku have telepathy doesn’t mean that we don’t have our own version of telepathy, right?”

Gojyo fell silent, and in a few moments, he chortled to himself, and huddled a tad closer to the green-eyed demon. He felt Hakkai’s forehead to his, and certainly heard the beginnings of a smile saved for him alone.

Gojyo tried and failed to bite back his grin as their noses touched in the dark—

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

* * *

The Sanzo party spent the following days cherry-picking their stories to the Phantomhive household and the other guests—how their leader was a gun-toting priest since the night he was ordained as such, how the power of the sutra worked, how Goku became Sanzo’s official attendant in the temple, how they got powers from their ‘sworn’ ways to Buddhism—

—all the while, Gojyo, Hakkai, and Goku never told the humans that they were demons, save for Sebastian.

They also haven’t told them that they were sent on a mission by a certain Goddess of Mercy and by other three gods.

They also haven’t told them that a certain god appeared from the sky and had basically kicked them to the side, and had taken over their original mission.

No one needed to know that, not even Lau and his oddly farfetched, yet accurate bursts of information about the Sanzo party.

Odd man, he was.

On the day that Sanzo was well enough to move around without wincing in pain, he wasted no time in going over to the Phantomhive garden at dawn to smoke once, and meditate his grievances away.

His steadily depleting supply of cigarettes were slowly driving him even more restless than usual.

Upon seeing the sun rise, he went straight to Sebastian’s quarters and requested for an area in the mansion where he could practice his shooting.

Sebastian suggested fox and game hunting, only for Sanzo to decline, stating that he didn’t want to kill any animals unless it was absolutely necessary—for food, or if his life was threatened.

“In that case, Reverend Sanzo, I will prepare proper target dummies for you to practice on. The sooner, the better, yes?”

Sanzo grumbled a forced affirmative upon seeing Sebastian’s too sweet of a smile, and the priest left, feeling like a child denied of a treat.

* * *

 

Hakkai cleared his throat and offered Sanzo some comforting words one day while they were lounging in the guest room. The more days passed, the more agitated Sanzo became. Hakkai had taken the reins to apologize to Sebastian for their leader’s grouchy behavior—it was the way he was.

Hakkai told Sanzo of Sharak’s advice to return to India. The green-eyed demon told him that while the priest and Goku were not themselves, Sharak had intervened with Taruchie’s summons. He told Sanzo about Sharak’s advice—about letting things go for now, and wait until the group had taken grasp of the ways of the country they were in, only until they have done so could they make their journey back to India.

The suggestion was something that Sanzo did not take as comforting as Hakkai thought it would. Still, the healer begged to differ—that the sole thing they could do for the meantime under the Phantomhive’s eye was to adapt to the country’s customs, and hope that maybe along the way, they could find out ways to return.

“Or maybe we could just ask the Goddess for help like last time,” piped Goku as he chewed on a macaron.

“Hahaha— _no_. You didn’t even know half of what happened last time, little monkey. And we didn’t ask for her... his... ugh. We didn’t ask for help, okay?” Gojyo huffed at the memory of the Goddess of Mercy being so bold and bossy and—

“Stop calling me a monkey, you perverted imp. Sanzo, we could at least try, maybe she has the answers,” Goku pleaded as he tugged on Sanzo’s sleeve, ignoring Gojyo’s further taunts for once.

“Feh. I’d rather bite off my own tongue. If you want to call that old hag so much, call that hag yourself,” Sanzo huffed as he chewed on his unlit cigarette. Calling for Kanzeon Bosatsu would be like offering yourself to slaughter—at least, Sanzo thought it would.

Huffing, Goku begrudgingly obeyed with much grumbling. It wasn’t until Sanzo side-glanced at his charge that he noticed the little monkey’s minute pout and crossed arms, and the priest offered Goku his own plate of food, and the golden-eyed demon took it with much joy.

They heard a knock on the open door, and saw Sebastian standing there with a cheerful smile. “Good evening, gentlemen. I take it you’re enjoying everything so far?”

Hakkai, Goku, and Gojyo all nodded and said their compliments, save for Sanzo, who hummed and shrugged, stating it was all fine.

“Would you like more wine, sirs? We have here an Auslese wine from 1886, a gift all the way from Germany.”

Gojyo let out a low whistle, “So uh, where’s that? Another town?”

“Another _country_ , Gojyo,” Hakkai supplied with a smile. “Germany is rich with their culture, isn’t it? I’d love to know more about that country, if I could,” he said with suppressed glee as Hakuryu cheeped and flapped his wings, something that made Sebastian smile in return.

“I’d gladly tell you about it when I have the time, then. Some of my young master’s acquaintances are from Germany. Plus, I have been there recently with my young master—”

The sound of the grandfather clock chimed midnight, and Hakkai hummed. “It’s getting rather late, isn’t it? Ah, maybe the wine can wait until tomorrow night, Mr. Sebastian. We wouldn’t want to impose much further than we already are.” Sanzo and Goku agreed, while Gojyo eyed the wine with a wistful sigh.

Sebastian nodded with a tightlipped smile and a low laugh, “Is that so? Very well, gentlemen. I shall accompany you to your rooms.”

On their way to their respective rooms, Hakkai lively conversed with Sebastian, asking tidbits about the different customs of different countries, while the other three observed and unfailingly admired the Western décor with silent awe.

“Hey, Sebastian. Is it me or something feels odd about tonight? I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s odd,” muttered Goku as he stared at the moon through one of the large glass panes in the hallway.

Sebastian’s eyebrow rose, and smiled with a thoughtful index to his lips, “Oh? Perhaps it will rain sometime tonight. England is a place that is always riddled with rain. I apologize, Reverend. Ah, Master Goku told me about how much you dislike rain, by the way.”

Sanzo huffed, and tutted at a sheepishly grinning Goku. “I don’t mind. As long as I’m not soaked in it, it’s all good.” He swallowed back a yawn, and when they have retired to bed, Sebastian bid them a good night, and left to check on the rest of manor.

“You mad?” Goku pouted as soon as he saw Sanzo plop on the bed and faced his side. “You’re mad, aren’t you? I can feel it through the lines on your face,” he prodded, hovering and peering over Sanzo’s face. Poking his cheek once, the brunet bit back a laugh as Sanzo scrunched his face and took hold of Goku’s offending finger.

“Not mad, stupid,” Sanzo muttered with a yawn as he held the demon’s hand to his chest, “just tired. Go to sleep, idiot.”

He heard Goku laugh and he tutted when the little monkey pecked his cheek, and he felt Goku’s forehead to his back. Sighing, Sanzo entwined his fingers to Goku’s, and placed his warm hand on his abdomen as they slept.

The sound of the clock striking the next hour passed by, and as the Phantomhive manor slumbered, noises from the outside nudged Goku awake, and try as he might to ignore it, when he heard a gunshot, he bolted up and Sanzo immediately followed, cursing all the while as he blindly placed the sutra back on his shoulders and readied his gun.

Looking out the window, they saw armed men— _humans_ —aiming straight at windows and walls of the manor.

And taking them all was a lone Sebastian, with a candelabra in hand.

“Gah! Sebastian!” Goku yelled. And he summoned his cudgel and broke the window, and leapt into action, yelling with a wide grin, as he felt like he hadn’t fought enemies in ages—“Sanzo, you too! Let’s help!”

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he wordlessly aimed at the man hiding in the bushes, aiming for Sebastian’s left side, muttering. “Stupid monkey just wants to get some exercise.”

The bullet fired, and it barely missed Goku by a hair.

Growling and baring his teeth in ire, Sanzo fired as well, and shot the man in the bushes right between the eyes.

“Goku! Never mind that they’re human! They’re out to kill!” And Sanzo leapt from the window and into the battle—

“Ah. I apologize for having disturbed your rest, Reverend,” Sebastian said through a forced smile and a twitching eyebrow as he flipped a man with a rifle onto his stomach and twisted his arm and covered his screaming mouth. “If there’s anything I hate more than dogs, it’s having humans destroy aesthetics. And disturbing the young master in his sleep accounts to death—in my book, at least.”

Sanzo hummed as he stood with his gun ready to fire, his back pressed against Goku’s. “I take it these are your master’s enemies?” he asked as he aimed at another man on the trees. When Sebastian smiled in affirmative, the monk grunted and shot at the man hiding in the foliage. “These people are humans, I suppose?”

“Yes,” the butler breathed as he threw a bread knife at another man’s eye. “My young master is a nobleman from the underworld, you see. He may be 13 years old, but he has a—” He jumped in the air and broke the neck of a sniper from a nearby tree, “—heavy burden on his shoulders.”

“Mr. Sebastian, duck!”

Sebastian leaned back as far as he could on instinct, and saw a large jet of white light passing over him, and saw it hit a man with a molotov. He heard Goku cheering as the lively brunet clobbered another man on the skull.

“We heard commotion from upstairs and we decided to join in on the fun,” Hakkai said with a wide smile, and he tilted his head to his left as a bullet from behind him wheezed by. “Oh my. Such treatment. Even Sanzo has never aimed his gun at me, let alone shoot it at me,” he laughed, and Gojyo, with his crescent scythe already out, backed away from the widely smiling demon with a look of nervousness.

“Yo, Sebastian. You’re saying—” Gojyo slashed a gunman’s arm, and kicked him in the groin to stop from screaming, “—that these guys are all that kid’s enemies? At such a young age?”

“As sad as I am to admit it, but it’s true,” Sebastian broke one man’s neck with a smile. “My young master is no ordinary child.”

Whistling, Gojyo whipped around just in time to punch another guy in the face. “A boy who has enemies left and right on a daily basis. Sure does remind me of _someone_. Right, O Holy Sanzo?” A bullet flew past centimeters from Gojyo’s nose, “Hey, you can kill me with that, you shitty monk!”

“Ah? I heard nothing, you stupid lecher. Hakkai, how many are left?” Sanzo fired bullet after bullet at the people who came close to him and Sebastian, ignoring speckles of blood that dotted his sleeves and cheek—

“There are five more, from what I can sense,” Sebastian answered for the demon. “Reverend Sanzo,” Sebastian laughed as he threw a fork at a man who charged at him with a bayonet, hitting said man in the forehead. “ _This_ is the proper target dummies I talked about with you a few days ago.”

“Tch. Figures.” And Sanzo shot another man in the nose, “Humans are not usually my targets, but—”

Goku laughed at he leaped up a tree and kicked another sniper to the groin and pushed him from the tree branch. “In a situation where it’s kill or be killed—”

Gojyo stubbed his cigarette on a man’s cheek and slammed his face to the ground, “—we’ll value our lives—”

Hakkai hit a man on the nape with the side of his hand, smiling all the while, “—more than anyone else’s.”

A low laugh bubbled from Sebastian’s throat, and regarded his fellow demons and the human with sheer amusement.

“This is such a wonderful night, don’t you think so?”

Scarlet eyes scanned the corpses littered all around, and at the people who helped him in his fight, and noted Sanzo’s ignorance at the blood splattered all over his priestly robes. “I shall prepare the hot water for your baths immediately after I—” He went over to the candelabra sitting by the wall, its small flames still lit under the moon, “—dispose of the trash. Excuse me, gentlemen. Oh, and also, don’t mind the window that Master Goku broke. This night of amusement is payment enough.” And he went away, chuckling as he carried the candelabra.

* * *

 

“‘ _There is a great gap between the worlds of darkness and of light, and we are unable to meet each other as we are at different ends of the universe._ ’ It fits them well, don’t you think, young lady?” Taruchie turned around, and noticed Sharak in deep thought as she looked at some of the golden deities lined up against the large walls.

She had been staying in the Temple of the Shadowed Sun for more than two weeks now, her growing worry for the Sanzo party alleviated only by the small amounts of time she conversed with Genjo Sanzo and his attendant through meditation and through Taruchie. She admired Genjo Sanzo’s tenacity in getting things done, but even Sharak could sense the Sanzo priest being on edge these past few days. With his mission being stopped by a god, she supposed that he would back off, but no.

‘To hell with the gods, I’ll haul my ass all the way to Houtou Castle even if I’m in another fucking planet,’ were his exact words.

Sharak laughed to herself.

“Yes, you’re right,” Sharak muttered with a grin. “I was thinking that maybe if they could find out more about the world they’re in, they could find a way to return. What do you think? He and his friends may be stubborn young boys, but I doubt that they won’t follow my advice.”

“‘Do not allow evil thoughts to arise;

Thus you will avoid all trouble.

Say not that there is no retribution;

Whether you become a god or a ghost is all determined.’”

Taruchie said all of this with the slightest hint of sadness. “I’m afraid your advice may bring ill to them,” she whispered as she twirled the prayer wheel in her hand. “I am only offering them my kind word of warning.”

“Ah, of course,” Sharak grinned, “but I want to see them through and I’ll help them with all that I can. If Genjo managed to deliver a technique he had only read from my library in a few days time, then I think he is pretty much capable of handling anything. His presence can traverse time through his companion—”

“But he is mortal, and the other is not,” intervened Taruchie with sad eyes, and a vision of seeing someone that resembled her greatly crossed her mind’s eye, and she frowned, and paused in her thoughts. Her brows furrowed, and her lips curled downwards, her eyes glassy and downcast, “I wonder if they are really the light...”

“Hm? Did you say something, Taruchie?”

“No. Nothing at all,” the demigod muttered as she twirled the prayer wheel in her hand a bit faster than moments prior. “I hope Fate will be kind to them this time around if they follow my advice, for the sake of the poor Sage.”

 


End file.
